The Truth Unmasked
by LizCraft
Summary: SEQUEL TO THE LION, THE WITCH, AND THE GUARDIAN. Emily and the Pevensies return to Narnia- but 1300 years after they had left it. With the help of some unexpected friends and allies, they must work together to restore their beloved country to its former glory. But what truth hides in the shadows, waiting to be unmasked?
1. Chapter 1: Returned

**Hey,**

 **I'm really excited to get this story started- so many of you asked me to write a sequel and here it is….. Chapter 1!**

 **I really hope you like it! Anyway, on with the story!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Tell me once more about the quest for the golden apple? Please?" Emily pleaded.

She and the Professor were sitting in his study before a roaring hearth. The pair had been talking for hours.

After Emily's return, Diggory Kirke had offered the use of his spare bedrooms to them, and they had accepted gratefully.

It was quickly decided that the girl would be homeschooled, so while Amelia and Mrs. Macready taught Emily the more creative side of her studies (The Arts, Riding, and Gardening), the Professor taught her the more practical aspect of the world- Math, Science, and History. However, the content of their lessons often turned to a less, per say, practical subject. Narnia.

"It is getting late, my dear. You should be getting some rest."

"Please? One last time? I promise I won't ask you again. Not tonight anyway."

The older man chuckled. "Oh, all right. But don't let your mother find out you've been up this late."

Emily glanced at the clock that sat on the shelf above the fireplace. It read a quarter to twelve.

"My lips are sealed."

Diggory Kirke closed his eyes and sighed, recalling the memory from long ago, from his youth and his time in Narnia.

"It was set in a valley. On in island at the edge of the bluest lake, you had ever seen. Polly, Fledge, and I flew above the island and landed on a green hill in its center. The top of the hill was surrounded by a high wall covered in ivy- impossible to climb. The three of us walked around the walls until we found the gates- high gates of gold, locked, facing due east. Inscribed on them was a warning in elegant silver writing-"

"Come in by the gates or not at all,

Take of my fruit for others or forbear,

For those who steal or those who climb my wall,

Shall find their heart's desire and find despair," Emily recited from memory.

The Professor opened his eyes and beamed at the girl. "You seem to know the story perfectly. You should be recounting it to me."

The clock chimed twelve.

"Great Scott, it's later than I realized. You really must be getting to bed. Hurry on now, shoo."

The Guardian of Narnia pecked him on the cheek.

"Good night," she said, as she left the study and carefully began to make her way upstairs.

Shutting her bedroom door behind her, the girl hastily changed, and climbed into bed, her eyes shutting as soon as her head touched the pillow.

 _*Cair Paravel was crumbling. Fauns, Centaurs, and Talking Animals ran about, dodging falling debris._

 _"Where is Kalis?" A centaur, Emily easily recognized as Rhys, asked a passing faun._

 _"The Treasure room; he wants to be its final defense against Telmar."_

 _She nodded and began making her way to said room, her hooves clattering upon the stone floor._

 _"CATAPULTS!"_

 _The cry turned Emily's blood to ice. She watched with wide eyes as Rhys turned- she was too slow. The heavy piece of stone fell, deadly and silent, crushing the female centaur._

 _The castle shuddered and began to crumble even faster. The scene itself shook and began to flicker like a static-filled radio station._

 _A deep voice sounded suddenly, bouncing off of Emily's vision, filling her ears and mind._

 _"From the glistening eastern sea to the great western woods; from the radiant southern sun to the clear northern skies; fallen hero of Narnia, may you pass forth easily and peacefully into the Lion's country, and from this world's burden, you shall be free."*_

Emily Clarke woke with a cry, breathing hard. Her heart was beating wildly. Her hands were trembling, shaking as violently as Cair Paravel had been in her vision.

The nightmare of Cair Paravel's destruction was recurrent. Never the same scene, but for the past two weeks, the girl had been tormented by dreams of her Narnian home's obliteration. The first two nights, Emily had awoken in cold sweat, shivering and crying. She could feel the deaths of the Narnians that been slaughtered by Telmar weighing on her soul.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her wild heart when a voice drifted in from the doorway.

"Emmy? Are you all right? Did you have another nightmare?"

Amelia Clarke stood in the doorway, clad in a simple light-blue bathrobe; her hair tumbled messily down her back, her feet clad in slippers. An expression of worry had etched itself onto her thin face.

Emily drew a second breath and nodded, sitting up.

"I'm….Fine. It's..."

"Was it Kalis again?"

The Guardian shook her head. The night she had watched Kalis, who had been protecting the Treasure room, be beheaded by a soldier bearing the crest of Telmar, she had woken up screaming. It had taken her three hours to calm down. She hadn't uttered a word until the next day.

She shook her head.

"Rhys," she said hoarsely. "She was a good friend; a loyal and trusted member of the Order."

"I'm so sorry, Honey," the older woman soothed; cradling her daughter in her arms, stroking her hair comfortingly.

Being the Guardian of Narnia was a gift that came with a terrible price. You could feel the deaths of the countries inhabitants, and if you were close enough to them- Amelia didn't even want to begin to imagine the pain one would go through. It was a terrible burden to bear. She just wished Emily had been older when Aslan had chosen her to be his lieutenant.

"You know what," Amelia told her daughter, letting her tone fill with optimism. "I'll organize a picnic. Just for the two of us. We'll take horses and ride to the clearing that you like. We'll spend the day in nature. What do you think?"

Emily slowly raised her head, eyes shining.

"Ok." Her voice was low and slightly cracked.

"I'll meet you in the stables." Amelia pecked her daughter on the cheek, before sweeping out of the room, the door swinging shut behind her.

The ex-Guardian stopped by the kitchen to inform the housekeeper of their plans, then, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom to change into something more appropriate.

Amelia reached under her pillow and retrieved the small tin box from underneath her pillow, and pulled out the Silver Ring.

 _"It's for the best, Amielle. If I must return then that is what shall be done." Sadness had replaced the joy and playfulness that usually filled his eyes. He had gently placed a final kiss on her lips before walking through the Wardrobe, shoulders set, never looking back._

Amelia lightly touched her lips. They were tingling slightly with the ghost of that last kiss. The moment had seared itself into her mind.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she slipped the ring into her pocket and left to meet Emily by the stables.

The pair mounted their respectable horses. Emily rode a chestnut male she had named 'Vixion' while her mother rode a black mare she had deemed 'Destiny'.

"C'mon Vix, faster," Emily urged her horse as they raced through the wood, the wind blowing back her hair. She had gone riding often enough; she knew almost every hidden trail, path, and clearing.

Emily let out a cry of delight as Vixion galloped through a stream, sending up a fine spray of water.

By the time they reached the small secluded clearing, both horses (and their riders) were covered in a thin layer of sweat.

After watering the horses and letting them graze, the two Guardians sat on the checkered blanket Mrs. Macready had packed for them, along with a thermos of lemonade, a sandwich apiece, and some fresh fruit.

"She really went to all expenses on the lunch," Emily's mother joked, taking a sip of lemonade. It was cold and refreshing.

Emily forced a smile. She was still shaken from her nightmare. Being in the outdoors had helped, but the Narnian prayer rang in her ears like church bells.

"Tell me about your dream."

She looked up at her mother; her mother, who had been in the original battle for Narnia; The battle against Jadis, the White Witch, who had undergone unimaginable torture at the hands of her greatest enemy.

"The Cair was crumbling…. The Telmarines, they used catapults to destroy the defenses…. Rhys, she was looking for Kalis and a block fell-" she faltered, tears shining in her eyes.

"May she pass forth easily and peacefully into the Lion's country, and from this world's burden be free," Amelia whispered softly, watching her daughter with wide eyes.

Emily gaped at her. "How do you know that?"

"It's an old Narnian blessing said over the dead. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," she responded quickly, looking away.

A warm breeze blew through the trees, making the leaves rustle.

"Emily, I-I want to give you something."

Amelia reached into her pocket and brought out an object wrapped in a white handkerchief.

"Here." She extended the object to her daughter. "I want you to have it."

Aslan's Lieutenant removed the cloth and felt small tears well up.

"It's beautiful." Where had her mother gotten this ring? She never remembered seeing it.

Inspecting it closer, she noticed faint and dulled carvings etched into the tarnished silver.

"A royal seal ring," Emily murmured, rubbing her thumb over the surface. "Where on earth did you get this?"

"Your father proposed to me with that ring."

Emily, who had been holding the ring up to her face, pulled her hand away, holding the ring gingerly as if it had sprouted fangs and had begun spitting acidic venom.

"This….This was his?" she couldn't even bring herself to call him 'Father'.

"Yes. It was. I know you don't like him because he left, but if you just knew-"

"If I just knew," Emily cut in hotly, "I would love to know the reason my idiotic father left the wife, that he loved and his only child!"

"Emily, please," her mother pleaded, the emotion clear as day in her voice.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, letting the piece of jewelry fall limply back into her hand. "I'm sorry."

She slipped the ring into her pocket.

The snapping of some twigs in the trees to her left drew her attention. It could've been her imagination, but she was almost completely sure that she had seen a flash of gold hidden between the bushes.

A second commotion to her right made her turn once more. There it was again- a golden blur racing against the green canopy of trees, before disappearing from sight.

The girl dismissed it as a figment of her imagination, a hallucination brought on by her nightmares.

"Has Peter responded to your letter yet?" Amelia asked curiously, reaching for an apple.

Emily hadn't touched anything. Seeing the ring had made her lose her appetite. She opened her mouth to answer when she saw something that frightened her.

"Aslan?" She jumped to her feet, watching a spot just over her mother's shoulder.

The Golden Lion, the true king of the whole wood, stood just beyond the tree line, his amber eyes piercing, calling to her.

"Come," he said. With a jolt, Emily realized that he had not spoken out-loud, but in her mind.

"Emily, what are you looking at?" Amelia's face was a mask of confusion.

"You don't see him?" Emily asked, but she was barely paying attention to what she said. Her eyes were fixated on Aslan.

"Who? Aslan? Emily, there is nothing there but trees." Amelia's voice was frantic, laced with worry.

The girl glanced at her mother in puzzlement- how could she not see him?!

The Lion watched her impatiently. He shook his mane and turned tail, disappearing into the forest.

"I'll be right back, mom."

"Emily," her mother grabbed her hand, "just be careful."

She nodded subconsciously and walked forward, following Aslan into the wilderness.

Emily Clarke knew the woods, the forest. She knew where a hidden strawberry patch lay and the best place for robins to build their nests so that predators couldn't find the eggs. She wasn't afraid of getting lost.

Where was Aslan leading her? That was all she wondered as she followed him through the wilderness.

Then something changed. Something in the air changed. It grew heavier. The air itself stayed the same; however, it was laced with something dangerous, something ancient and something powerful. Magic. Of course, Emily did not realize this until it was too late.

"Aslan? Aslan!" The girl cried as the Lion disappeared from her sight, just beyond the tree line. She rushed after him, breathing hard. Where was he leading her? Breaking through the trees, Emily entered a clearing, and Aslan was nowhere in sight.

"Fantastic," she muttered under her breath. Not only did she lose Aslan, but she was also lost. "This is just bloody fantastic."

Taking a deep breath, Narnia's Guardian turned to study her surroundings. Maybe they hid a clue- something to tell her where she was.

Her heart leaped with joy as a faint glimmer, high above the trees, caught her eye.

She pushed on, climbing over rocks and ducking under low branches. Thorns tore at her clothing, tearing them.

The light became clearer and brighter- and Emily almost walked into a tree. Well, not exactly a tree. More like an iron post.

"Lantern Waste…." She trailed off, her heart and mind not believing- not wanting to believe- her eyes.

She was in Narnia.

Emily didn't know whether she was supposed to cry tears of joy or sadness. What she did know, however, was that is she was indeed in Narnia- and her visions were true, she needed to blend in. And fast.

She pondered her options- if the Telmarines had invaded Narnia, she couldn't go searching through a bunch of ruins for clothing….. Mr. Tumnus! When the House of Pevensie had reigned, the five of them had grown accustomed to leaving a spare set of clothing at his home, for whenever they went out hunting.

Gathering up her skirts in her hands, Emily ran through the wilderness, following the now near invisible path she faintly remembered. Rounding a corner, the familiar iron door came into view- but something was off. As she drew closer, she knew with complete certainty that something was wrong.

The once black door was now flecked with red rust and was just barely hanging on its hinges. The Guardian of Narnia took the piece of metal in her hands and pushed. It bit into her palms and fingertips. She bit her lip to resist crying out.

The door finally gave way. Emily stepped back and placed her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her arms were shaking from the effort and her hands were red, covered with tiny indents from the rust.

Wiping away the sweat that had formed on her brow with the back of her hand, she stepped into the doorway. The spring sunlight slowly filtered into the room, filling it with a warm and welcoming heat.

The girl gasped.

The entire room was covered in a thick layer of undisturbed dust. Cobwebs had attached themselves to any and all surfaces. A warm breeze wafted through the room, ruffling stray papers that had miraculously survived.

All the evidence pointed to the fact that Mr. Tumnus's home had been vacant- abandoned even- for many years.

A brilliant ray of sunlight shone, reflecting off of some item and hitting Emily's eye, blinding her.

Walking over, she stooped down- and cried out in pain. Warm crimson blood flowed from her palm. Turning it over in her hands, she inspected the sharp object.

A picture- the frame long gone; the glass broken and stained, was now slick with blood as well. The picture itself was stuck to the shard of glass and was a yellowed piece of paper, its occupant not recognizable.

 _ **I have to find out what is going on**_ , the blonde thought to herself, moving to walk down the empty hall.

Reaching the storage room, the last doorway on the left, she pushed the oak door open and changed quickly into her Narnian outfit.

Returning to the main room, Emily took a final look around, placed her English clothes under a blanket, and walked outside into the fresh air.

Blinking in the sunlight, she tucked the small silver chain that held Peter's engagement ring to her, underneath her tunic's neckline. Her father's ring though was tucked firmly away into her boot.

"Emily."

The Guardian whipped around, catching the amber eyes of the Great Lion with her own gray ones.

"Aslan! I have-"

"Emily," he called, disappearing farther back into the trees.

She hesitated. Where was he leading her this time?

"Emily." Aslan's voice came again, urgently this time. "This cannot go on for any longer, you must find them, and protect them."

"Protect who, Aslan?" The girl called, following his voice through the trees.

"Remember your oath. Protect Narnia!"

The last word was roared. Not only out loud, reverberating through the trees but in her mind as well. The roar grew louder and louder. Emily's knees crumpled. She fell limply to the ground as her vision faded to black.

Aslan's lieutenant woke to the sound of water, the rhythmic sloshing of it.

Ignoring the dull throbbing that filled her head, Emily stood with a groan, dusting off her tunic in the process.

She was standing on the banks of a river. It's water glinting harshly in the sunlight.

Across the water was a forest Emily assumed to be the Great Woods; and in the distance, to the west, standing tall and menacing was a castle. Its towers and spires reached the sky.

The faint repetitive sound of hoof beats jolted her out of the trance. Rapidly approaching her from the North, was a group of centaurs? No, riders on horseback.

Emily ran. Guessing she was a few miles north of Beaverstown, she ran south, knowing that in the town she could find crossing, shelter, and figure out what the hell was going on.

She felt the riders drawing in on her. There was no way she would manage to outrun them. They overtook her; their armor gleamed cruelly in the fading sunlight.

They encircled her. Emily reached for her dagger.

With a panicked start, she realized that her blade was in Cair Paravel-what was left of it- where she had placed it before returning to England.

 _ **Wonderful**_ , she thought, _**I'm weaponless, outnumbered, and am at the mercy of the god-forsaken Telmarines!**_

The sound of metal being drawn over wood caused Emily to tense up. A cold sword point was placed between her shoulder blades.

"By order of My Lord Miraz, son of Caspian the Eighth, Regent and Lord Protector of Narnia and of Telmar; I command you to surrender."

* * *

 **Chapter one baby! And who doesn't like a little cliff hanger? I mean…. :)**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Also, updates will be slow, but I will get them to you- do not worry!**

 **Please review- and don't hate. It's your opinion and I respect it, but if you don't like my story, just don't read it ok?**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	2. Chapter 2: The Horn's Cry

**Hey, guys!**

 **I'm back with chapter two. Thank you for all the awesome reviews!**

 **Arvas13- Yaaaayyyy! I'm so happy you're excited about the story! I hope you like where I'm gonna take it. I got the idea of her entrance to Narnia from Lucy's dream in the Prince Caspian movie actually :)**

 **Lizziestrong- I'm glad you liked it!**

 **LexiLove1117- Thank you!**

 **On with the story!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"By order of My Lord Miraz, son of Caspian the Eighth, Regent and Lord Protector of Narnia and of Telmar; I command you to surrender," a heavily accented voice said, tone thick with self- pride.

Emily opened her mouth to respond sarcastically, however, a smooth and kind voice cut her off, addressing her captor.

"General Glozelle, that is no way to treat a lady, of any stature! One would think growing up around a Royal Court would teach you how to properly address a lady."

The speaker slipped from his horse. The small, gray pebbles that lined the bank cracked under his leather boots.

"Are you all right?" He addressed the Guardian.

"Other than the fact that there is a sword at my back, everything is peachy," she retorted angrily.

The newcomer chuckled. "Lower your blade, General."

The general hesitantly did so and Emily turned to face the two. Glozelle was sheathing his sword. He was older, with a battle-scarred face and military-cut curly black hair. His mouth was set into a firm line. His eyes watched the girl carefully. The second man, the newcomer, was younger- much younger- seventeen or eighteen at most. With his long, dark hair, and eyes like polished wood, he could pass as almost handsome for Emily…. Almost.

"You are not from around here, are you?" he asked with a smile, taking a step towards her.

She took a step back; nearly walking into a horse. "Why do you ask?"

"For one, it is extremely rare to find Telmarine girls with hair as fair as your own-"

Emily subconsciously reached up and smoothed hers down.

"-and you did not recognize me or my men."

Aslan's lieutenant narrowed her eyes at him, trying to figure out who he was. She felt the soldiers behind her raise their guard suddenly, due to a signal, given to them by the general.

"I am from Archenland, My Lord. Forgive me," she heard herself say.

The two men before her raised their eyebrows.

"What is your name?"

"Em-Alyssia," Emily said, "Lady Alyssia."

"Well, Lady Alyssia; I am Prince Caspian the Tenth, of Narnia."

Biting her tongue and resisting the urge to gut the prince with his own sword, she curtseyed respectfully, bowing her head. The word "Majesty" was muttered inaudibly through her dry lips.

"If I may, How did a girl- barely of age- managed to reach the heart if Narnia, alone, from Archenland?"

"I… came with a party," she lied, batting her eyelashes, "we were attacked by bandits in the woods. I alone escaped." She let a tear slide down her face, turning away from them.

The Prince turned to his men.

"Ivan, Kaylin, Devin, ride south and see what you can find of Lady Alyssia's party. I will accompany her to the castle to rest."

The General nodded and glanced at his men. "Ride," he commanded. Three of the six riders departed, riding south, in the direction of the Narnian-Archenland border.

Emily sized up the remaining soldiers. Three of them were common soldiers; they'd be easy enough to fight if she needed to escape. It was the general and prince who were the real problem, but she could always just take the prince hostage….

"-do not have a spare horse. You don't mind riding with me, Milady?"

Narnia's Guardian flinched slightly at the title, but locked eyes with Caspian.

"It would be an honor, your Majesty."

* * *

Emily paced the small guest chambers she had been given. After another night of nightmares, more vivid this time, she had woken up in cold sweat and had begun to pace the room, dressed in the clothing she had taken from Mr. Tumnus.

She could hear the cries of the Narnian's that had been slaughtered so that the Telmarine castle could stand. There was something, however, that bothered her more than the cries of the dead. It was deeper than her magic, deeper than the evil that was the Telmarines; something cold and dark and powerful.

A sharp knock sounded and the door was pushed open with a creak.

"Prince Caspian, My Lady," the guard announced.

The Guardian hastily stood as the young prince strode in. He looked shocked to see her pacing the floors of the room, clothed in her traveling garb from the previous day and had not changed into one of the frilly gowns that had been set out for her.

"Are they not to your liking? I could-" he began, motioning to the dresses that were set on a nearby chair.

"They are fine, My Lord. I just prefer my own clothes from home," she cut in quickly, stopping him mid-sentence.

He gave her an appraised look but nodded all the same. "As you wish."

"So, Your Majesty, what brings you to my humble chambers?"

The prince cracked a smile. "I was wondering, hoping, if you would care to join me for a ride?"

Narnia's Guardian watched Caspian carefully, trying to determine whether the prince planned on leading her into a trap, or rather was being sincere, and asking her to join him for a ride.

"It would be an honor, my lo-"

"Please, call me Caspian."

Emily opened her mouth slightly in surprise.

"All right," she said finally, "it would be my pleasure, Caspian."

That was how, Emily, Guardian, and Protector of Narnia, and Caspian the Ninth, Prince of Telmar and Narnia, took out a pair of horses and rode together through the meadows surrounding the castle.

Time passed. The sun rose in the sky. The two riders stopped alongside a small creek that cut through the earth to water themselves and the horses.

The Telmarine knelt beside the beasts and splashed his face. The water was cool and refreshing.

"Caspian," Emily asked suddenly, "Can we ride through the woods before returning?"

The prince whipped around to face her. _**She must be crazy**_ , he thought, staring at her.

She was sitting on a low rock on the grass. Confusion filled her eyes, a faint fear filled his.

"We cannot," he said simply, wiping the excess water from his eyes.

"Why not?" Genuine bafflement coated her tone as she watched the prince.

"You do not know?"

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"The woods, according to legend, are filled with ghosts and spirits."

"Ghosts?" she scoffed, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Really?"

The boy looked at her disbelievingly. "You don't believe me?"

She shook her head. "You Telmarines need to start facing the facts. Have you ever seen a ghost?" Emily answered his question with one of her own.

Caspian stumbled over his words. "No, but-"

"Have you ever heard a ghost?"

This time he was ready to answer her. "Yes," he said, "that is how we know they exist."

"And you truly believe the sounds are caused by spirits with no corporeal body?"

The Prince of Narnia was speechless. He had never encountered someone who had not thought the ghosts to be real.

The rhythmic sound of hoof beats sounded, breaking up the silence.

"My lord Caspian, you are urgently needed by your Uncle."

Caspian and Emily faced the young soldier. He looked faintly familiar.

"Ivan, isn't it?" Caspian asked him, standing hurriedly.

The man nodded slowly, watching the prince with a glint of fear in his eyes. "Ye-yes, Majesty."

"Ivan, please let my uncle know that I shall be with him as soon as possible.

"Yes, of course, sire. Right away." The soldier mounted his horse once more and rode off briskly. Soon, all that was left of the horse and his boy was a small cloud of dust floating above the grass.

"Come, My Lady," he said, extending his forearm to Emily, "I believe it is high time you met my uncle, Lord Miraz."

* * *

Emily and Caspian hurried through the cobblestone courtyard. The stones were a dark gray color, as was the castle itself. It seemed like all the color and happiness had been leeched out when the Telmarines had arrived.

They had almost reached the steel doors engraved with 'The Sun of Telmar' when a voice reached across the courtyard to them.

"Ahh, Prince Caspian. I see you have received your uncle's message." The newcomer's tone was disapproving.

He had graying hair and a matching goatee. His dark eyes flickered as he regarded them carefully.

"Yes." The prince's tone filled with annoyance, giving away that he did not care for this man. "I received the message. Lady Alyssia-" he turned to his companion, "- meet the Lord Sopespian. Lord Sopespian, Lady Alyssia of Archenland."

The Telmarine bowed his head. The few guards behind him mimicked his actions. Sopespian reached to take her hand. Emily recoiled from his touch. His aura was thick with the stench of death.

"Forgive her, the Lady is still shaken from the attack on her party in the woods," Caspian said hurriedly, taking the Guardian by the shoulders.

"Of course, Majesty; the woods are a dreadful place." Emily shivered as Sopespian's eyes meet hers; boring into them as if he could see straight through her lie.

"Come Alyssia, my uncle awaits." He hurried her into the castle; leading her down corridors and past numerous doorways. Heads turned and were bowed out of respect as they passed.

Caspian did not give the girl any time to think about their encounter with the Lord before he halted in front of, what Emily assumed were doors to the council room. Before she could blink, they swung open and she followed Caspian into the room.

As soon as Aslan's lieutenant passed over the threshold, a wave of nausea filled her, memory filling her mind, threatening to consume her.

A dungeon of ice. Her mother wearing cloudy manacles. A cruel and high laugh- its owners face coming into view, Jadis.

Emily knew now what the cold, evil presence she had felt earlier had been. The god-damned Telmarines had built their fortress upon the ruins of the White Witch's palace.

The Prince shot her a concerned look. She responded with a wave of reassurement.

"Caspian. How kind of you to join us. And you have brought a guest. How…. Unexpected," a voice, laced with sarcasm, said.

Caspian bowed respectfully. Emily followed suit, biting her lip in the process.

"Uncle, this is Lady Alyssia of Archenland."

So this was Miraz. Emily took in the dark-haired man standing before her.

His dark eyes were identical to Lord Sopespian's; they glittered like obsidian- cold and unyielding. But where Sopespian's were curious and calculating, Miraz's were cruel and full of malice.

The prince cleared his throat.

"What is the matter? Why have you summoned us?"

The Guardian noted how the Telmarine had said us. Not me, but us.

The regent waved his hand carelessly. "That matter has been tended to. Now Caspian, if you would be so kind, I would like a word with the Lady."

The council hall doors opened and closed. Lord Sopespian slid into one of the many ornate chairs that lined the room, most of which were filled with people.

"With the entire council present? That is outrageous!"

Indeed. When the Pevensies had ruled, the only time the entire council was summoned was before a war or a major trial.

"Have you considered that she might be a spy for the enemy? Leave Caspian, now."

Emily almost laughed. Spy for the enemy…. By Aslan, if they only knew who she was…..

Beside her, the boy's face turned into a blank slate, his eyes filled with hurt and hatred.

"Yes, of course," he mumbled obediently, before bowing and exiting; leaving Emily alone in a room full of enemies.

"Lady Alyssia, is it?"

Emily fixated her eyes on the speaker. Lord Miraz watched her, as did the remaining Lords; their eye's as sharp as hawks. The chamber seemed to be growing warmer by the second. The usurper's brow was already beaded with sweat. The Guardian allowed a false smile to fill her features.

"Yes, My Lord," the Daughter of Eve slipped, casually and with comforting ease, into the dialect she had used on her previous trip to Narnia. "From Liverna."

Liverna was a small region located on Archenland's eastern border- where the grasslands turned into the sands of the Great Desert. She had accompanied Susan and Lucy there many times during their reign. Despite the region's size, most of the two queen's wardrobes were made up of Livernan silks.

"The same Liverna that was burned to the ground little over a century ago? I am no historical expert, Lady, but I believe that it means the city is inhabited."

 _Shit._

"You… you must be mistaken, Lord-"

"I am not mistaken! You are a spy sent to infiltrate the castle under the orders of that blasted King Ferdinand!"

He stormed up to her, eyes blazing with a dark and triumphant fire. A curious look suddenly appeared on his face.

"What is that around your neck?"

Before anyone could move, let alone blink, Miraz had darted forward and grabbed Emily's blond hair, yanking her head back, exposing her neck. The delicate silver chain glittered in the sunlight.

Emily did nothing. Playing the part of the Lady Alyssia from Archenland, she let her face morph into one of pain, and let a tear fall down the side of her face.

"Don't touch that," she pleaded, "My mother gave it to me…. Please…"

He paid her no attention as he took the chain in his hand and pulled, hard. A small tinkling sound was heard as the fragile clasp broke. An angry, red mark appeared along the back of her neck.

"Don't touch...this?" He sneered. "These gems do not look from Archenland- where is the boy's tutor?"

He snapped his head up and looked at one of the many guards, the doors opened and closed once more.

Seconds, although it could have been hours, later, the doors reopened, admitting a short man, with a long white beard. He shuffled into the room, keeping his eyes averted from Emily's.

"What do you make of this?"

Caspian's uncle tossed the chain, and ring to the tutor. Emily set her jaw, knowing there was nothing she could…. He was half-dwarf. The tutor. The thought rang through her mind.

 _ **Maybe he could help her.**_

"Have you found anything Doctor?" Miraz snarled. The Guardian could sense his unsettlement.

The council hall was silent; all eyes were in the half-dwarf. A pin drop would sound like a gunshot had been fired.

The short man examined the ring, turning it over and over in the brilliant sunlight; his eyes filled with confusion, worry, fear, and… hope.

"The band is indeed made of Narnia's finest silver, and the stones are those that have not been seen in centuries. However, there is something else…."

 _Don't say it, please don't say it._

Their eyes met, both filled with fear.

"Yes…" Miraz growled.

"The ring matched the description of the one, documented by the Old Narnians, which was given by the High King to…. The Guardian of Narnia."

No one dared to move. The doctor's stature was one of defeat and regret. The regent chuckled; his laugh low and dark and cruel.

"You will make a lovely prize, Guardian."

Emily took a step back, tearing her hair away from his grip.

 _ **Aslan**_ , she prayed, _**if you can hear me, please send help.**_

"SEIZE HER!"

Four armored men ran forward and held her tightly (she put up one hell of a fight) as a fifth soldier- General Glozelle- slipped a pair of iron manacles around her wrists.

"You are playing with a force you do not understand, Miraz! Aslan and Narnia are not those to be reckoned with."

The Lord observed her in amusement as she struggled against the chains. "Narnia has bowed to Telmar long ago. I suggest that you do as well, Alyssia."

"Never." She spit on the floor at his feet.

He took a step closer.

 _Crack._ The sound resonated through the room. The rest of the council shifted nervously in their seats, no one uttered a word. Warm blood trickled down her chin. One of his rings had caught her lip and had torn the skin.

The regent reached out a hand and slipped the necklace into her tunic. "Let your lover's ring be a reminder of the only mercy I will show you."

As the guards began to let her out, Emily locked his gaze with hers.

"You believe the ghosts in the woods are frightening Miraz? They are only the beginning."

* * *

A hand clasped itself firmly over Caspian's mouth. His eyes widened in terror, until he saw his tutor's familiar figure standing over him. He relaxed and rolled over.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled drowsily, making to shut his eyes once more.

"You won't be watching the stars tonight, my prince. Come, we must hurry."

Doctor Cornelius hurried over to the wardrobe which stood in the far corner of the room and ushered Caspian inside.

"Professor," he panted, "What is going on?"

The dwarf's look was one of sympathy and worry. "Your aunt has given birth to…. A son."

His bed chambers door opened. General Glozelle and his men surrounded the young prince's bed, all armed with loaded crossbows.

Caspian watched fearfully as the arrows were fired, racing through the air. Piercing the headboard and tearing the linens.

Cornelius' urgent face suddenly appeared beside him once more. He took the prince by the arm and led him through a secret door; pulling him down a winding stairway, leading to the castle's Armory.

The prince hastily chose a sword, and pulled on light armor, while his tutor brought out his horse, Destrier, and handed him the dark cloak he had been wearing.

"You must make for the woods."

Caspian looked at him oddly. "The woods?"

His professor only nodded. "They won't follow you there."

Cornelius quickly removed an object wrapped in silk from his belt.

"It has taken me many years to find it. Do not use it except at your greatest need," he said, offering it up to the Telmarine.

The prince tied it to his belt. "Will I ever see you again?"

The Doctor took his hand, squeezing it in reassurement. "I hope so, my dear prince. I meant to tell you. Everything you know is about to change."

Caspian took the reins, letting the cold night air dry his tears.

"Promise me something," he said, "promise me that you'll look after Lady Alyssia. I feel as if she is in constant danger here."

The prince would never know how right he was.

"Yes, my prince. Now GO!"

* * *

Emily had been chained, led down a staircase, and shoved unceremoniously- into a small and dank cell. The cell had no visible windows. Along the far wall, the floor was lined with molding hay. The rest was bare stone.

The Guardian leaned against the cool wall, listening to the dulled sound of fireworks exploding overhead. Aslan had brought her into Narnia…. For what? How could she help Narnia now? She was stuck in a Telmarine dungeon, with close to no hope of getting out.

A cry of muffled shock cut off the girl's train of thought.

She leaped to her feet as a small figure approached her cell and pulled out a ring of keys. As her savior tried for the right key, Emily saw his face; the door swung open, yet Emily made no move to exit.

"Why are you helping me? You had no problem selling me to the Telmarines!"

"I am sorry Milady, please forgive me." Doctor Cornelius bowed low, his head almost reaching the ground.

"There is no need for that." She reached over and pulled him up. "Save it for the Kings and Queen-"

She stumbled, grabbing hold of the cell bars for support.

"Are you alright Milady?"

The tutor's voice sounded blurred, as if she was listening to him underwater.

Emily could barely nod. She slid to the ground; Susan Pevensie's horn ringing in her ears.

* * *

 **Cliffhanger! Who doesn't like a good cliffy?**

 ***raises hand slowly***

 **Anyway, what'd you guys think? Do you like how I portrayed Miraz and Caspian? I hope so, cuz if not…. We're going to have some sirius issues ;) #HarryPotterreference**

 **Two things before I end this A/N-**

 **1\. What do you guy's think of the summary for the story? Should I change it?**

 **2\. Which of the seven books of The Chronicles of Narnia series was mentioned in this chapter? (The person who guesses correctly wins a shoutout in the next chapter!)**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz  
**


	3. Chapter 3: Welcome To The How

**Hey, guys,**

 **Here is chapter three!**

 **QueenOfSilver- Yayyyy! I'm so happy you're excited for the rest of the story! I have so many twists and turns and emotions planned for the continuation *laughs evilly***

 **Guest- Thank you for catching that… that's what happens when you type up a chapter at like 12:00 on a memorial day… Sorry!**

 **Also, the answer to the second question was The Horse and His Boy (it's the third Narnia book, but does not have a movie).**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Edmund knelt on the cracked cobblestones and examined the boulder before him.

"Catapults," he announced, his tone grim.

His siblings looked over in blank confusion.

"What?" Peter asked in confusion.

Edmund rolled his eyes at him, turning to survey the ruins.

"This didn't just happen, Cair Paravel was attacked."

* * *

"I can't believe it. It's all still here," Peter breathed, taking in the dusty chamber. Debris was spread across the ancient treasure chamber. His bright blue roamed the room, before landing on a battered, dust covered shield.

His siblings ran over and raised the lids to their respective chests. No one noticed the flicker of blue magic as protection spell broke. Lucy pulled out a dress and held it up to her body.

"I was so tall," she sighed, facing Susan.

"You were older then," the Gentle Queen replied with a smile.

"As opposed to hundreds of years later…. When you're younger." Edmund turned to his sisters. He wore a battle helmet, several sizes too big for him.

Peter blew the dust off of the shield, revealing the roaring face of a familiar lion.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he mumbled, raising his eyes to the statue that stood behind his own chest. He took a step forward. Susan started suddenly.

"What is it?" Lucy asked immediately.

"My horn," she said. "I must have left it on my saddle the day we went back."

The three younger Pevensies watched as their older brother, the High King of Narnia, slowly raised the lid of his own stone chest. Faint blue energy drifted out of the chests interior and trickled down both of its sides before dissipating.

He pulled out Rhindon, not noticing the folded piece of yellowed paper that fluttered to the ground, and unsheathed the ancient sword. The steel blade gleamed in the faint sunlight that streamed in through the chambers broken roof.

"When Aslan bares his teeth, winter meets its death…" Peter recited, running a hand over the blade's inscription.

"…And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again." Lucy's eyes filled with sadness as she lowered her voice and continued: "Everyone we knew…. Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers… They're all gone."

The four exchanged silent looks as they thought about how time had affected their beloved country.

As if pulled by a magnet, Edmund turned his head. A small, yellowed piece of paper lying in the dust caught his eye.

"What do you reckon this is?" he picked it up carefully, afraid that it might crumble at his touch.

"By Jove," he muttered, turning the page over, "It's from Emily!"

In a single, fluid motion, Peter swept the paper from his brother's hands. He unfolded the parchment and stared at the familiar cramped and minuscule handwriting.

"Well? Aren't you going to read it, Pete?"

Taking a deep breath, the Magnificent King began to read.

" _Peter. Susan. Edmund. Lucy._

 _Magnificent. Gentle. Just. Valiant._

 _I do not know if you shall ever find this, or if we, fates forbid, never meet again. I must tell you a few things._

 _You four are not only the rulers of the four thrones; not only the chosen of Aslan, or even the four whom ended the White Witch's icy reign; you are first and foremost the Pevensies. And you should do well not to forget this_." Peter paused, taking a deep breath.

" _Lucy- Your name comes from the Latin word "Lux" which means Light. You are the light, the light which shows the lost the way home. You led us into Narnia; you opened our eyes to the truth. You are the shining beacon in the darkness, which guides us back into the light. You bring joy and happiness to all who surround you._

 _Edmund- Your name means "Protector". You are Just and fair towards those who have done wrong, and will travel to the end of the world if you must, to protect your family. You are a great friend and someone who can always be depended on no matter what_." The High King's voice cracked; his voice thick with emotion. He turned his head away, choking down a sob, he silently handed the note to Susan.

The Gentle Queen took the paper and cleared her throat, blinking the wetness that had formed, out of her eyes.

" _Susan- You is as graceful and gentle as the lily you were named after. You are calm and level headed, thinking your words before stating them for the public; and when we ride out to war, you are the one whom keeps Cair Paravel safe for our return._

 _Peter- Your name means "rock". You are not only Narnia's High King, but you are your sibling's rock, their shelter. You will do anything for them and they will do the same for you. You are a great king, a great friend, and are truly missed._

 _I am truly honored to have fought alongside you, as comrades in arms, equals, and as soldiers. I miss you all intensely and wait for your return to Narnia._

 _May the Lion watch over and protect you wherever your life shall lead._

 _Signed,_

 _Elizabeth Clarke, Guardian and Protector of Narnia, Lieutenant of Aslan, second knight of the Order of the Great Lion, and Regent of Narnia."_

The four stood there, shell-shocked, staring at the page in Susan's hands.

Susan's face was filled with guilt. Edmund was red-eyed with tears. Peter's face was an unreadable mask of emotion. Lucy stood near him, her small hand rested on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Do… do you think she's even here? In Narnia?"

"There's only one way to check." Within a moment, the eldest Pevensie had crossed the debris-covered floor and stood in front of the Guardian's chest. He muttered a small prayer to Aslan and raised the lid.

A sound like a gunshot, or the crack of a whip filled the room, making the walls shake. Cobalt-colored energy seeped out of the walls, out of their weapons, out of everything in the room. It slowly disappeared, leaving only the faint smell of ozone behind.

"Magic!" Lucy said excitedly. "Who do you suppose…." She trailed off, seeing her sibling's expressions.

"Oh."

Inside the stone box, lying atop a suit of dwarf-made chainmail and assorted weapons was a small silver chain adorned with a matching lion charm; next to it laid Emily's dagger.

"Why would she leave them behind?" Edmund asked curiously, watching, as his brother fastened the delicate blade to his weapon's belt. "She always has them with her."

Peter handed the necklace to Lucy. "Keep it safe." At her questioning look, he added, "I would wear it, but I would look rather foolish, don't you think?"

Edmund snorted. "Serves you right; you did give me that ladies coat to wear last time we were here."

The four broke into smiles at Edmund's statement. Susan helped Lucy put on the necklace, locking the clasp slowly into place.

"Anyway," Peter said. "I think it's time we figured out what's going on."

* * *

Emily breathed hard. It was two days since Cornelius had helped her escape the castle. The half-dwarf had led her through a series of secret passageways which ended at a rusting metal gate that led to the woods.

 _*Stay within the trees and you'll find them. It's where they hide." The doctor said, throwing a dark cloak over the girl's body."_

" _You mean the Narnian's?" she asked, attaching the sword he handed her to her belt._

 _He nodded. "Stick to the tree line-"the dwarf looked over his shoulder nervously. Alarm bells had started to ring. Flocks of birds had been sent flying from the nearby greenery._

 _Emily turned to leave, taking the bells as her cue. The Professor grabbed her wrist._

" _If you should find him, keep Caspian safe. Please..." he pleaded. His voice was barely above a whisper._

 _Aslan's Lieutenant closed her eyes and exhaled, clearing her mind. "Fine," she said, reopening her eyes._

 _The doctor's face lit up with a smile. "Thank you Milady, your father would be proud."*_

Emily looked around at the shrubbery around her. Ever since then she had been wandering aimlessly in the woods, hoping, searching for a sign. All the while her mind had wandered, repeatedly landing on one question- _Where the Pevensies in Narnia? -_ And if they were- _where were they? Did they find Prince Caspian already?_

A rustling in the leaves drew her attention. She drew the Telmarine sword.

By Aslan, the amount of hate she felt for the blade was unimaginable. The Guardian had more hate for a piece of steel than she had for any adversary she had ever faced (maybe except for Jadis and Miraz). Emily loathed every moment she needed to use the blade. She would give anything to have her own dagger in her hands.

"Who's there?" she called out, blade held aloft.

A horse burst through the undergrowth suddenly. Emily jumped back to not get trampled.

"Whoa, Miss Clarke, I don't wanna be a horse-ke-bob!"

The girl broke into a smile. "Fledge!"

"You rang for a handsome horse?"

Narnia's Guardian threw her arms around the pegasus' chestnut body. "How…How are you here?"

"Well, I am immortal. Aslan also said you might need some assistance- "his tone was full of pride."- So I said that it would be a great honor you know? And-"

"Fledge," Emily said, cutting of the horse's rambling. "We should get going. Telmarine soldiers could be here any second."

"Of course, Emily," he said as she mounted him. "Any specific location?"

She shook her head. "Just fly," she mumbled. "Just fly."

* * *

"Prince Caspian?" Peter asked slowly, watching the dark-haired boy before him.

"Yes," he answered brusquely, taking a half-a-step closer. "And you are?"

"PETER!"

Just in time, Susan, Edmund, and Trumpkin appeared from behind the bushes that surrounded the clearing, weapons drawn.

Caspian glanced down at the blade he held in shock. It's hilt was topped with a golden, lion-shaped pommel.

"High King…Peter?" he choked, looking up at the blonde in wonder.

The Magnificent King smirked. "I believe you called?" he asked mockingly.

"Well yes, but…" he swallowed. "I thought you'd be… older."

Trumpkin bit his lip.

"Well, if you'd like, we can come back in a few years." Peter began to turn away.

The Telmarine Prince stepped forward quickly. "No!"

The eldest Pevensie gave him a sarcastic glance.

"No," Caspian continued hurriedly, "That's alright. You're just… you're not what I expected." His gaze drifted over the four, before flicking back to Susan. She blushed.

"Well, neither are you," Edmund said, eyeing a Minotaur carefully.

Trufflehunter stepped towards the group of royals. "A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes."

"We have anxiously awaited your return, my liege. Our hearts and swords are at your service." Reepicheep bowed low, his sword drawn in salute.

"Oh my gosh, he is so cute!" Lucy whispered to Susan.

The mouse whipped around, his sword brandished wildly. "Who said that?"

The two sisters exchanged a glance.

"Sorry," Lucy mumbled, taking a step towards him.

"Oh, uh…. Your majesty," the mouse stumbled for words, his voice softening. "With the greatest respect… I do believe courageous, courteous, of chivalrous might more befit a knight of Narnia."

Susan and Trumpkin chuckled at the mouse's words.

"Well, at least some of you know how to handle a blade," Peter said, his voice filled with a faint scorn, his eyes on the Telmarine prince.

"Yes, indeed. And I have recently been putting it to good use collecting weapons for your army, sire."

Caspian flinched twice, as if Reepicheep's words "Your" and "army" had been two separate slaps. Nevertheless, he held Rhindon out to the blonde monarch. "Well, then you'll probably be wanting yours back."

Peter took the blade wordlessly, sheathed it, and walked away, leaving Caspian standing with the others.

As the Narnian's began walking, moving towards the How, Edmund Pevensie fell into step beside Miraz's nephew.

"Ignore him. Peter can be a real prat when he's worried about something. He'll calm down soon enough."

Caspian stared at him.

"Oh, right. I'm Edmund… the Just," he added with an afterthought.

"I know… My tutor used to read me stories of Narnia's Golden Age… Is it true the tree's used to dance?"

Ed chuckled. "You would need to ask Lucy. She'll be able to answer that better than I."

After a few moments of silence, the Telmarine spoke.

"You said that King Peter-"

"Peter, just Peter; you don't have to address as King of Queen. We're only kids, like you, whether Pete decides to admit it or not."

"You-you said that Peter was distraught… Why so?"

Edmund sighed. "You know the stories. We may have been the ruling monarchs, however, we had help. Alongside us was a girl, named Emily. She was the Guardian of Narnia. She was a friend, guardian, protector, babysitter, and teacher. On our last day here, we found that he fancied her. Right now, only Aslan knows where she is now." He looked away, a wistful expression on his face.

"You were close friends?"

Edmund's silence confirmed Caspian's suspicions. "What does she look like?"

A centaur, Glenstorm, passed them, a tired out Lucy sat on his back. "Majesties."

The light began to filter through the green canopy in larger quantities. The sun's rays danced on the dark-haired Pevensie as he faced the Telmarine.

"She has golden-blonde- colored hair and warm brown eyes… like chocolate."

Prince Caspian, amid his joy of meeting the Kings and Queens of old, failed to realize the Lady Alyssia of Archenland fit the Just King's description perfectly.

"I will make sure scouts are sent out once we reach the How."

His companion smiled. "Thank you Caspian."

"Anything for a friend."

The Narnian party broke through the line of trees, revealing a clearing. Standing tall at the far end of the meadow was a fortification made of stone. The Pevensies stopped and stared.

Caspian grinned and moved forward. "Welcome to Aslan's How."

* * *

Doctor Cornelius hurried down the hall. Two leather-bound books on Old Narnia clutched in his grasp. He entered his book-filled study, not noticing the figure leaning against one of the shelves.

"You have quite the library, doctor," Miraz said, snapping the book he was reading shut, causing the half-dwarf to jump slightly.

"Is there anything in particular you seek, my lord?" the Tutor folder his glasses closed and placed them gently on his cluttered desk.

The Usurper came forward, stepping up to the table. "I think I already found what I'm looking for…" He stabbed a red-tipped arrow into the book that lay open on the desk. "…In one of my soldiers!"

Cornelius looked stricken as he observed the skewered page. It showed the four Kings and Queens and Narnia's Guardian on horseback. Miraz sat down in the chair, propping his boots up on the wooden table.

"What do you know of Queen Susan's horn?" Miraz's tone was cool, controlled, and clipped.

"It…It was said to be magic."

"Magic?"

Cornelius began to pace, evidently quite nervous. "The Narnian's believed it could summon their Kings and Queens of old. At least," he added, eyeing the Telmarine, "such was the superstition."

"And what does Caspian know of this…. _Superstition?"_

"My lord," he stammered, "You forbade me from mentioning the old tales."

"So I did," Miraz stated dryly, jerking his chin.

The doctor noticed Glozelle standing near the door.

"I will say this. If Caspian does know of the deep magic, my lord would have good reason to be nervous."

Miraz smiled slyly. "You know, that is very similar to what the Guardian said. It is too bad she is not here. You two would have been good friends."

* * *

"We aren't getting anywhere, Fledge! We're no closer to finding the Narnian's then we are to finding Aslan, or bringing back the White Witch!"

Emily was frustrated. The pair had looked everywhere for some sort of sign. They had tried Cair Paravel, Beruna, Beaverstown… Even the Dancing Lawn! No clue to where they were hiding.

"Fledge, we've searched everywhere! Where do you think they…" the girl trailed off, her eyes widened suddenly. "What are the odds they're camped in the same place as last time?"

"Umm... Well, I would have to say close to none, milady. How would they even know where the great and mighty Aslan's encampment was thirteen-thousand years ago?"

"It's worth a try," she said, climbing onto the Pegasus's bare back. "Fledge, head towards the stone table."

He launched into the air. Moments later, they had landed in a green meadow. On the far side of the field, casting a shadow over majority of the grass, stood a stone structure.

Emily was about to wave it away as a Telmarine training camp, until she saw the faun standing just out of sight on one of the upper levels of the fortress.

"I think we found them."

* * *

"It's only a matter of time. Miraz's men and war machines are on their way. That means those same men aren't protecting his castle," Peter stated. The remaining talking Narnian's quickly quieted down.

The Pevensies and Caspian had called a meeting to discuss their next move. For now, all it had been was Peter and the Telmarine baiting each other, a contest of power.

Reepicheep looked up at him. "What do you propose we do, Sire?"

"We-"Caspian started, just as Peter said: "Our-"

The High King glared at the other monarch. Caspian conceded, giving Peter the spotlight. Edmund and Lucy rolled their eyes at the pair.

Peter turned back to the Narnians. "Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us," he continued, ignoring Miraz's nephew completely.

"But that's crazy," Caspian stated. "No one has ever taken that castle."

Peter sighed. "There's always a first time."

"We'll have the element of surprise," Trumpkin added on, watching the prince carefully.

"But we have the advantage here," Caspian argued. The castle was too well fortified, what Peter was proposing was impossible.

Susan stood at his side. "If we dig in, we could probably hold them off indefinitely."

He smiled inwardly.

"I, for one, feel safer underground," Trufflehunter said.

 _ **That's two on my side,**_ Caspian thought. _**If I could just get King Edmund to see reason-**_

"Look, I appreciate what you've done," The blonde Pevensie said to him, cutting off the Telmarine's train of thought. "But this isn't a fortress, it's a tomb."

"Yes, and if the Telmarines are smart, they'll just starve us out," Edmund said, leaning forward.

"We could collect nuts!"

Everyone looked oddly at the talking squirrel.

"Oh yes," Reepicheep responded, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm. "And throw them at the Telmarines!… Shut up!" The mouse turned to Peter. "I think you know where I stand on this, Sire."

Peter gave him a grateful smile, before turning to Glenstorm. "If I can get your troops in, can you handle the guards?"

The centaur glanced nervously at Prince Caspian. The boy sent Glenstorm a pleading look. The centaur bit his lip.

"Or die trying, my liege."

"That's what I'm worried about."

The group turned to the Valiant Queen in confusion.

"Sorry?" Peter's voice was coated with puzzlement.

"Well," she started. "You're all acting like there are only two options: Dying here, or dying there."

"I'm not sure you've really been listening, Lu," Peter insisted.

"I'm going to have to agree with Lucy, Pete. The world isn't black and white. Sometimes, you just need to look for the rainbow in between," A familiar voice cut in from the doorway.

The Pevensie's faces turned to those of shock.

"Emily?"

* * *

 **Hehe…. So… what'd you people think?**

 **Most of this chapter was from the movie with a few lines from me inserted in here and there, so yeah…**

 **Anyway, there are TWO Percy Jackson references in this chapter. You know the drill…. Those who guess correctly must fight to the death to win a shoutout :) Just kidding, no fight to the death….**

 **Also, have you guy's heard about Narnia's revival with "The Silver Chair" movie that's coming out?! I don't know about you guys, but I am really excited for it. I have loved Narnia for so long and if it's really coming out…. I will be freaking ecstatic.**

 **Please review and all that stuff….**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	4. Chapter 4: The Truth Unmasked

**Hey, guys! I'm back!**

 **I know it's been like… almost an entire month (ouch) but please forgive me!**

 **QueenofSilver- Don't worry…most of them are good twists and turns. I promise! *Hands you a tissue and glass of water* Are you ok?**

 **Guest (Edmundpevensie4ever) - Thank you! You're making me blush :) And I can't have Edmund or Peter captured, but you have given me an idea *gets a wicked gleam in my eye* someone will be captured by Miraz. Don't worry *grins evilly***

 **Also, I recently (and finally) opened up an Instagram account. So add me if you want. I'm gonna be posting fandom related stuff, sneak peeks for upcoming chapters, and updates on my stories :)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Miss me?" Emily said, smiling weakly.

The council of Narnian's that had been assembled to discuss the raid on the Telmarine stronghold gaped at the girl, their faces full of shock and wonder.

Lucy ran forward to wrap her arms around the girl in a tight hug. After a moment, Susan joined her; holding her friend tightly and not letting go.

"Emily," Edmund said, stepping towards his friend, his eyes twinkling with joy.

"Ed." She pulled the Just King into a tight embrace after detaching herself from the two queens. During Narnia's Golden Age, the Guardian and the King had become extremely close friends. They always had each other's backs in battle and knew how to calm the other down when they were mad.

"I'm glad you're not dead," he whispered into her shoulder. His voice was muffled and faint.

"Me too Ed," she ruffled his hair affectionately, rubbing a comforting hand over his back. "Me-" She stopped abruptly. A golden-haired figure filled her vision. Peter Pevensie ran his worried, sapphire-blue eyes over her, taking in her torn tunic and dirt-streaked hair.

"Did he hurt you?" The question died on his lips as Emily ran forward, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Shhh… It's alright, it's alright. What happened? Did he hurt you?" Peter lowered his gaze to match hers. If Miraz had done anything to her, touched her or harmed her, Peter was going to rain hell down on him. No one hurt his family and got away with it; no one.

Something broke inside of Emily. After not seeing Peter for two years, missing him, the whole fiasco with the White Stag; and now, finally being able to see him, she didn't give a dam about court regulations and restrictions. She had Peter and that was enough. Tears began to force their way out of the corners of her eyes.

He held her, the familiar touch comforting and calming.

"Hey, hey," the High King pulled away, holding her head in his hands. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

Something in Emily's eyes changed. They darkened slightly as if a door had just shut, leaving the room in darkness.

"I'm fine," was all she said, turning away from him- a Lady speaking with her King; her gaze focusing instead on the dark-haired prince behind him.

"Prince Caspian! Thank Aslan you're alright!"

The Telmarine's face softened, changing from the confusion and hurt. "Lady…. Alyssia? You're the Guardian of Narnia?"

Emily bit her lip, the corners turning up a little. She dipped her head slightly.

Caspian looked flabbergasted. "And…. You…. You…" his gaze pierced her." Your name is Emily-"the word sounded foreign on his tongue. "- Not Alyssia?"

"That's right." She nodded once more. "Tell me, Caspian, would you have said your name upon encountering the Crown Prince of your enemy?"

Wisely, Caspian did not respond, and only nodded his head in shock and agreement.

Peter cleared his throat suddenly, catching the Guardian's eye. "You are all dismissed. We will discuss the mission further, later today."

Before anyone could respond, he went on. "Emily, if I may have a word, please?" He slipped easily into the Magnificent High King from the stories the present company grew up hearing.

The blonde barely hid her confusion as she answered ("of course") and followed the eldest Pevensie out of the cavern, the Narnian's stares piercing their backs, into one of the rooms in the How, saved usually for smaller meetings.

Emily walked over to the table in the room's center and sat, perching herself on the edge of the wooden surface, her toes barely skimming the ground. The High King shut the door, leaning against it, his hands trembling, rested on the smooth surface of the door. He took a deep breath, letting his eyes fall shut for a second, before speaking.

"What happened?" His voice was low. Emily had to strain to hear his words.

"I told you, Pete, nothing happened. I'm fine, I-"

"By Jove, Emily, what bloody happened?!" He near shouted, "and don't you dare say nothing, because your wrists say otherwise."

Emily glanced down; shuffling her torn sleeves to cover the now-faint purplish bruising that had appeared there. She had forgotten about the manacles. Lining their interior had been a form of thick and rough material that had not only added a considerable weight to the manacles but, after a day or so of being worn, had bruised both her wrists.

Emily sighed. She had never seen Peter this distraught… this tense… she sighed again before talking.

"I saw Aslan-"

Peter perked up at her words, his eyes held confusion.

"- He brought me into Narnia…. I bumped into Caspian and he took me to the Telmarine Castle. Miraz found out who I am and had me thrown in the dungeons." She finished with a flourish. "That's what happened. OK?"

The High King looked up at her, his blue eyes gleaming. "No, Emmy. It's not ok… it's nowhere near ok." His voice was steady as he pushed off the wall and made his way towards her. "I lost my father to the war back home-"His voice cracked. "- And I almost lost Ed to the White Witch last time we were in Narnia, Lucy almost drowned in the River Rush… So, no, it's not ok. You have no idea what Miraz is capable of doing to you, THE GUARDIAN OF NARNIA! HE COULD'VE KILLED YOU! HE COULD'VE….." He breathed heavily.

Peter stood almost on top of Emily. She could feel his breath as it came out in short, ragged pants; see the fear and worry that filled his expression as he looked at her, transfixed with concern.

"I didn't want to lose you too, Emmy. I didn't want to lose you too." His words were soft, whispered and full of emotion, of love. Each one stabbed Emily in the heart.

He raised a hand to wipe away the tears that had started to spill down her face. Every touch was a soft caress.

"You won't ever lose me, you do know that, right?" He was crying too, Emily realized with a jolt. "I love you, Peter."

"I love you too." He said, and leaned forward, closing the small gap between them, letting their lips touch.

His lips were soft. The kiss was small; smooth and gentle as they embraced, tears falling freely. Peter's hands roamed across her back, gentle and light touches, each one making Emily shiver against him as she wound her hands through his tousled blonde hair.

They pulled apart, eyes locked, panting heavily. Their foreheads touched.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said, his voice low and husky.

Emily choked on a laugh. "You are not too shabby yourself, your Majesty." She leaned forward once more, and kissed him, gently and passionately, sighing against his lips as he too, reclined into it.

Peter placed his hand just below her ear, his thumb stroking her cheek as their breaths mingled. She ran her hands over his spine, her fingers delicately pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and the beating of their hearts echoed in between.

"IN THE NAME OF ASLAN AND THE WESTERN WOODS!"

The sudden cry caused the two lovers to break apart, lurching away from each other in sudden panic.

Standing in the doorway, his mouth agape and staring, was Edmund Pevensie.

"What... Wha...What the bloody hell?!" He stammered as horror and shock filling his face.

Peter looked stricken, Emily bit her lip.

"Ed, it isn't-"Peter started, and was cut off by his sister's oncoming voice.

"Ed, what's going on? We heard you..." Susan trailed off, surveying the scene that lay before her, Prince Caspian at her heels. "…shout."

"By Queen Susan's horn!" The prince exclaimed; his chocolate-colored eyes filled with surprise.

The four of the Golden Age looked at him, confusion coloring their faces.

"Excuse me?" Susan asked politely, Emily and Peter momentarily forgotten, as she turned to face him, her features changing from those of confusion, to those of astonishment.

The Telmarines eyes widened. He gulped, blush flooding his cheeks as he remembered that he stood before Queen Susan of the Horn, King Edmund the Just, High King Peter the Magnificent, and Emily, the Guardian of Narnia.

"Um, it is a… ah…" He stumbled over his words which only caused him to blush even more.

"It's alright," Emily said softly, straightening her tunic and moving over to stand beside Peter, her hand slipping into his.

"You," Susan whirled around to face Peter. "What were you two thinking?! Couldn't you at least have gone to a proper bedroom? Hell, why choose a meeting room? We use them all the time!"

Peter cowered under her glare. He took a step back, his eyes never leaving the Gentle Queen's face.

"And, you!" She turned to Emily, who's eyes widened considerably. "I would've thought you would be responsible! I understand that you both are eighteen and are considered adults, but, blimey! Lucy could've walked in on you two, for heaven's sake!"

Emily and Peter both had a sudden fascination with the stone floor, their heads down like scolded kittens.

"Now, Emily, if you don't mind, I would like to have a word with my dear brother."

Emily nodded, all too glad to get out of Susan's clutches. Ducking out of the room, she headed down the short corridor that led to the main working area.

Fauns, Minotaurs, Dwarves, Centaurs, and all manner of talking creatures rushed around; bringing in scraps of metal to be melted down and made into weapons, wood for the forges, water and food was brought to the room that served as a kitchen. The shrill ring of tens of anvils striking metal filled the room, somehow managing to be heard over the dozens of conversations that were taking place as well.

Emily made her way (by asking directions from a nearby Narnia) up to the upper levels of the How, where there were gaps in the rocks, large enough that one could climb out onto the outer ramparts of the structure.

She sat there, watching the Narnian sky light up in a beautiful ombré of yellow, orange, and pink, for hours. She was still sitting there as the silver moon went up, her blond hair glinting dully in the moonlight.

Aslan's Lieutenant was so enthralled by the Narnian sky; she didn't realize that a dark-haired figure crept up behind her until he took a seat next to her. His legs swinging over the outcrop of rock.

"Lady Emily."

She didn't flinch. "Prince Caspian, an honor. What brings you to sulk with the commoners?"

The prince swallowed. "I have…come to apologize. I should've known what my uncle was planning, and warned-"

"I have already forgiven you Caspian," Emily interrupted him. "Do not make me regret it."

He cracked a smile and nodded, watching the stars beginning to blink into existence in the dark night sky.

A few moments passed before one of them spoke again.

"How did my uncle know who you were?" Caspian asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Emily sighed, reaching into the top of her tunic and pulling out a small chain adorned with a ring.

"This ring. It… was documented by the 'Old Narnian's' that it was given to me by…. The High King." She drew a shaky breath. "It was his proposal ring…. To me."

Caspian froze. Now he understood everything. Why Peter had been so distraught, and he understood what just happened and why it happened.

"I'm... I didn't know…. I…." His attention caught on a circular object tied to her boot. "…What is that? If you don't mind me asking?..."

"What?" Emily asked, obviously bewildered. "Oh… It's the ring my father proposed to my mother with."

She swiftly untied the laces of her hunting boots and handed him the ring in a single fluid motion.

Caspian's brow furrowed. "It can't be…"

It was Emily's turn to be curious at his statement. "What do you mean?"

"Where did you get this?" His tone was laced with fear…. And betrayal.

"Excuse me? Why do you want to know?"

"Because… " He said, his dark hair glinted harshly under the Narnian moon. "This ring…. Is the missing seal ring of my father, Caspian the Ninth of Telmar and Narnia."

* * *

 **BBBOOOOOMMMMM.**

 **I know… you're all probably wondering HOW THE HECK IS THIS HAPPENING?! Or IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!**

 **Don't worry… all will be explained in the upcoming chapters :) For now, you can all feel free to try and guess how in the world it happened (it's really confusing, even I barely understand it)**

 **I'm sorry that this chapter is shorter than normal… I didn't mean it :(**

 **So, please review! It'll make my day! Seriously!**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	5. Chapter 5: The Raid

**HHHEEEYYY!**

 **I have this feeling that all of you are reading this and thinking: Liz, Please explain what the hell just happened! Or something along those lines, right?**

 **QueenofSilver- The green beans are being held! *Dumps a bottle of water on you head* Did that help with the overload? I hope your questions will be answered... sometime throughout the story :)**

 **Ro (Guest)- I ship them too. I always felt Peter never got enough love :( But if Lucy did walk in on them…. I think Susan would've killed them both, then and there to be honest. Answers will be given! Have patience, my young grasshopper.**

 **Fangirl5300- Well, I am glad you liked it! And it's only been *does quick math* 12 days since the last update :)**

 **Arvas13- My friend Rebecca gave me the idea and I sat for like three hours to try and make it work… and I think I managed it ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Everything froze.

The wind stopped blowing, the birds stopped singing. The moon dulled its light. Emily forgot how to breathe. Caspian seemed to have forgotten as well.

"How…. How is that possible?" The Telmarine's question pierced the air, breaking the spell of sudden silence.

The Guardian's head was reeling. _**I have a brother.**_ She closed her eyes. _**I have a brother.**_ "I… don't know." The words forced their way out of her mouth. "I don't know."

The prince barely heard her. He kept turning the ring over and over between his fingers. "It shouldn't be possible… It can't be," he said, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't spoken in a long time. "It isn't logical."

Emily laughed. "Nothing ever is in Narnia."

Caspian wasn't paying any attention. He looked out over the edge, his eyes locked on a spot on the horizon. "She's dead. She can't be alive."

"Who's dead?" She placed a comforting hand on his arm. He was shaking.

Swallowing, the prince started; his mind elsewhere.

"When… When I was younger, I remember walking into my-" he faltered. "-our… father's room and I remember seeing a photograph on his desk. The edges had curled slightly with age. It showed him, arm in arm with a woman- our mother, cradling two children- infants."

Emily closed her eyes, imagining the photograph. If Caspian looked anything like their father, it was a very simple task.

"Later," he continued, taking a breath. "Later, when I confronted him about it; he told me that the woman in the photo was my mother, and the children were me and my sister-" he choked." –Emiliana."

Tears fell from the Telmarines eye's as he spoke. "Father told me that Emiliana and my mother were killed by bandits on the way to Archenland. And know….." his brown eyes brightened. "Emily. As in Emiliana?"

She could barely nod. Her head spun faster than the dryads at The Dancing Lawn. But before she could speak, a faun poked his head out of the How.

"Lady Emily, Prince Caspian. King Peter has called for a meeting to discuss the raid," he said slightly out-of-breath.

Emily smiled. Taking the tsunami of emotion that had just been aroused and locking it deep within her mind. Out of sight, out of mind right?

"Of course," she said hastily, moving to stand, "Tell the king that we're on our way." She turned to the prince and extended her arm. "You're Majesty."

Her tone was clear enough. They would talk about this later. Right now, Narnia needed them.

Caspian shook his head, his eyes never leaving the horizon. With a final comforting squeeze, Emily stepped back, entering the How.

"Father," he whispered, looking up at the stars. "I do not know what to do. Please, send me a sign."

* * *

The Table room was a buzz. Narnians scrambled to and fro strapping on armor and weapons and getting their last minute positions from Peter and Edmund.

Emily watched them running back and forth, bustling around. After the last Narnian was given their task and they stood to the side in their respective attack groups, she stepped forward towards the two monarchs.

"Where do you want me, your majesty?"

The two brothers turned to her. Peter regarded her carefully.

"With Lucy; here in the How," he said, averting his eyes, watching the floor.

Emily stopped abruptly. The Just King's eyes were apologetic.

"What do you mean in the How?" Emily was furious. "I deserve to come, Pete! You can't just leave me behind!"

The High King looked at her. "I can, and I will. You still haven't healed completely from your capture and I won't risk him taking you again."

All eyes were on them now. Every Narnian watched the High King and Aslan's Lieutenant spar back and forth with their words.

"And what happens if Miraz captures you? Or Ed? Or Susan? That's all right?" Emily took a deep breath, calming herself. "You're worth more to Narnia alive than you are dead."

Peter moved so quickly, Emily barely saw him. He took her face in his hands and tilted her face upwards to look at him. "I want you to protect Lucy... I am the High King, Emmy. Don't make me pull the power card. Please." His voice was pleading, his blue eyes desperate.

"Fine," she said. "Fine."

"Thank you." He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead. "Here, this might help."

From the weapon's belt on his waist, Peter yanked a familiar dagger. Handing it to her, Emily barely concealed her squeal of joy. It was her dagger. _Her dagger._

A rush of familiar warmth surged through her as her fingers closed around the leather bound hilt. She breathed out, letting the heat envelop her, filling her with a magical strength and energy.

"Sire, it is time." Glenstorm's deep and commanding voice boomed from across the room.

Peter nodded and locked eyes with all of his fellow Narnians.

"I don't know what will happen, or how this mission will end. But I just want to say, it is an honor to fight alongside you all."

They cheered, but it died down quickly as Caspian walked in, battle-ready.

Emily locked eyes with her brother. "Good luck...to you all."

* * *

Caspian hurried down the tightly wound set of spiral metal stairs. He needed to move quickly. The faster they got this over with, in his opinion, the better.

The bottom of the steps came into view. The prince took out the set of keys he had…taken… from the guard upstairs and quickly unlocked the cell.

"Five more minutes?" His voice was light as his tutor stirred from his sleep.

Cornelius's eyes were wide as he took in the young prince's figure kneeling above him. "What are you doing here?" He asked weakly as Caspian began unlocking his shackles. "I didn't help you escape just so you could get captured again. You have to get out before Miraz learns you're here."

Emily's brother helped the half-dwarf to his feet, handing him his glasses in the process.

"He'll learn soon enough," Caspian said, "We are giving him your cell."

He turned to leave, to reach the gatehouse to let the Narnians in, but Professor Cornelius grabbed his arm and pushed him against the gate of the cell.

"Don't underestimate Miraz as your father did." The Professor's tone had turned serious…. And sad, wistful even.

"What are you talking about?" Caspian narrowed his eyes at his tutor, his gaze becoming confused.

The doctor hung his head. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

The Telmarine's eyes widened in understanding as he tore away from the dwarf's grip and ran up the stairs.

 _ **I'm going to kill him,**_ was the only thing that went through Caspian's head as he barreled through the castle, following the path that led to his uncle.

The prince pulled out his sword as he approached the sleeping figures or his uncle, Miraz, and aunt, Prunaprismia. Moving with such stealth, that even Reepicheep would be proud of, he places the point of his sword at Miraz's throat.

The usurper's eyes flew open. Faint recognition flashed across his features as he chuckled.

"Thank goodness… you're safe," he sneered.

"Get up," Caspian ordered, his features stoic.

Miraz pushed away the covers and shook his wife awake. Prunaprismia sits up and turns in horror.

"Caspian?" his aunt's voice was fearful…. And confused as to why her missing nephew was threatening her husband in the dead of night.

Caspian put a hand out to stop her. "Stay where you are," he said.

"What are you doing?" Prunaprismia hissed at him, her eyes wide.

"I should think it's obvious, dear." Miraz glanced at Caspian. "You know, some might consider this inappropriate behavior."

"That doesn't seem to have stopped you," the prince said, digging the blade a bit deeper into his uncle's collarbone.

"But you're not like me, are you?" The corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk. "It's sad… The first time you so any backbone, and it is such a waste."

Prunaprismia reached above her head and opens a cabinet above the bed.

"Put the sword down, Caspian. I don't want to do this," she says, her hands shaking slightly, aiming a crossbow at Caspian.

"We don't want you to either!"

Peter and Susan rush into the bedroom. Peter drew Rhindon and Susan nocks an arrow and aims it at Prunaprismia.

Miraz rolled his eyes. "This used to be a private room."

"Caspian, what are you doing?" Peter yelled through clenched teeth at the boy. "You're supposed to be at the gatehouse."

"No!" he yelled. "Tonight, for once, I want the truth!" He turned to Miraz; his brown eyes so full of hate. "Did you kill my father?"

"You told me your brother died in his sleep," his wife said in a disbelieving tone, glancing from her husband, to Caspian, to the two British monarchs **(A/N not monarchs of Britain!)** , and back.

"That was more or less true."

Caspian took a few steps towards Miraz, who is forced to step back against the window.

"Did you kill my father?"

"Caspian, this won't make things any better," Susan argued, her grip slightly wavering.

"We Telmarines would have nothing had we not taken it. Your father knew that as well as anyone," Miraz spat at his nephew.

Prunaprismia lowered the crossbow a little. "How could you?"

"For the same reason you will pull that trigger!" The regent of Narnia shouted.

Miraz started to walk forward, Caspian slowly steps back.

"Stop! Stay right there!" Susan shouted, her bow raised.

Miraz: For our son! You must choose. Do you want our child to be king or do you want him to be like Caspian here? Fatherless!"

"No!" Prunaprismia wails, releasing her grasp on the crossbow's trigger. Caspian falls over, an arrow piercing his arm as Miraz escapes through a secret door in the wall.

* * *

"Peter!" Susan shouted at her brother.

"Our army is just outside!" He yelled back, running down a hall that leads to the courtyard.

Susan and Caspian exchange a glance and dash after Peter. The three sprint through the darkened courtyard.

"Now, Ed, now! Signal the troops!" Peter yelled up to his brother, who is fighting a Telmarine soldier.

I'm a little busy right now, Pete!" He shouts in response.

Edmund dropped his sword. He uses his electric torch to hit the soldier, and manages to knock him down. He tries to turn it on, but finds it broken. Below, Peter tries to open the gate.

"Peter," Susan cried, "it's too late! We have to call it off while we still can!"

"No, I can still do this!" he panted, struggling to turn the wheel. " Help me!"

Susan and Caspian run over and push with all their might. Telmarine troops begin to file out of the castle.

"Just who exactly are you doing this for, Peter?" The Gentle Queen snapped at her brother.

They continue turning the wheel, trying desperately to raise the gates. Up top, Edmund keeps shaking his torch, trying to get it to work. Inside the gatehouse, Trumpkin and the mice turn the wheel to lower the drawbridge.

Outside, a few miles away, Glenstorm and the army grow restless. They start murmuring and shifting about. A beam of light flashes through the sky; Edmund's signal.

Glenstorm reared up onto his hind legs and let out a war cry that echoes through the Narnian ranks as they charge the castle.

The Narnians charge past Peter, Susan, and Caspian, filling the courtyard to the brim. The Telmarines swallowed their fear, a collective shudder passed through them.

As one, the three monarchs drew their weapons and rushed forward, joining their soldiers.

"FOR NARNIA!"

* * *

A fire crackled. The stone table room was warm… no, stifling was a better word. In any case, Emily was going mad with worry and anxiety.

Lucy lay on the table itself, tracing the edges of her cordial flask mindlessly.

"Do you think Aslan knows?"

Emily looked over to the young girl in confusion. "Knows what?"

"What's going on. He must know about the Telmarines, right? He'll come to help us?" Lucy propped herself on her elbows to look at the Guardian.

Emily opened her mouth to talk, to tell Lucy that she didn't know if Aslan would come and help them. She doubled over; a sharp pain filled her stomach. Falling to her knees; her dagger fell out of her grip, clattering to the stone floor.

"Emily! Are you ok?!"

Lucy rushed over, falling to her knees beside the girl, cordial in hand. A drop of the amber liquid fell into Emily's mouth. She inhaled deeply and sat up.

"Somethings… wrong..."

"What?"

"At the raid… something went wrong." Emily shot to her feet. "I have to go help them."

"Wait," Lucy called out before she disappeared from sight. "I have your cloak!"

Quickly, she unclasped the silver necklace and held it out to the older girl. "Good luck."

Emily flashed her, a quick smile. "Thank you, Lu."

* * *

Emily flew over the green canopy of trees, heading towards Miraz's castle.

"C'mon Fledge, can't you go any faster?!"

The pegasi beneath her snored. "If I could fly any faster I would be a flying cheetah. We're also here."

He was right. The black torrents of the Telmarine castle loomed beneath them. They flew over the courtyard, and Emily made the mistake of looking down.

Tens of Telmarines were dead, but double that amount of Narnian's were lying in the blood as well. She felt sick to the stomach.

"Set me down on the tower," she whispered to the flying horse. He whinnied in acknowledgement. Emily's eyes snapped to the blonde figure fighting his way through the chaos. "And get out of here."

Narnia's Guardian stepped up onto the ledge, surveying the scene before her. Majority of the Telmarines were charging form the main door- good, Asterius the Minotaur was covering that with some fauns. The rest of the fauns were covering the soldiers with crossbows along with most of the Talking Beasts. Everyone else was attacking any enemy in sight.

She spotted Susan pegging soldiers with her arrows, a dwarf at her back. Caspian was fighting on the other side alongside Glenstorm the Centaur.

Emily took this all in, in less than a second.

"Here goes nothing," she whispered, before flinging herself into the air, tumbling gracefully and rolling on impact. Coming up on one knee and stabbing an oncoming soldier.

Along with the dagger, cloak, and minimal control over magic, Emily had gained some gymnastic ability that allowed her to do more than the average person.

Wiping her dagger on her pants leg, she stood, making her way through the carnage and fighting towards-

"PETER!" the sound ripped itself from her throat as a knife hurtled out of thin air towards the boy with deadly precision.

Emily leaped over fallen bodies, running across the fountain that stood in the center and threw her cloak up, shielding him from the fatal blow just in time.

The kings blue eyes widened. "Emily? What are you doing here?!"

"What? No thank you for saving your life?" She countered, parring an oncoming Telmarine blade.

"Thank you," he muttered. "But I told you not to come-"

"-And if I didn't you would be dead. You're welcome." She dispatched the soldier into whatever heaven Telmarines believed in with a final strike to the chest, wincing as she pulled the blade free.

"Pete?"

The High King's eyes scanned the courtyard worriedly. Emily realized what he was searching for a second before he spoke.

"Where's Susan?"

* * *

 **Alrighty guys, Chapter 7. What'd you think?**

 **I am really sorry for the cliffhanger…. Why am I sorry?**

 **Well, starting on Tuesday I'm going to camp! So this is going to be the last chapter for about a month and a half about… But once I get back, I'm going to upload stuff! So keep an eye on your inbox ;)**

 **Please review! It would mean a lot to me!**

 **If any of you people want to follow me on Instagram and stuff (I post fandom related stuff and possibly updates and sneak peeks of upcoming chapters) I'm** _ **lizclark_315.**_

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	6. Chapter 6: Short Tempers

**Hey, guys!**

 **So, after a long time, I'm back. The reason behind my lack of posting is because I went to sleep-away camp over the summer and I started eleventh-grade last week… but hopefully, I'll start posting more frequently from now on. I'm really sorry you guys! Please forgive me!**

 **Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 5-it really means a lot!**

 **ENJOY!**

* * *

 _ **Last time on The Truth Unmasked:**_

" _Pete?"_

 _The High King's eyes scanned the courtyard worriedly. Emily realized what he was searching for a second before he spoke._

" _Where's Susan?"_

The sounds of the surrounding battle faded into a distant buzz. Emily's face was a mask of unreadable shock.

"What do you mean where's Susan?" _**She couldn't be missing… not now, not-**_

"Look around you, Em. She was fighting by the doors last I saw her… and now she's gone." Peter's voice was colored with urgency and panic- the panic of an older sibling for their kin. A pang of sadness went through Emily. "We have to find her."

Peter began to rush off, but Emily grabbed his arm.

"And we will, Pete. But we-" The Guardian's eyes flicked upwards. "Move."

Emily pushed the eldest Pevensie to the ground, just as an arrow flew across the courtyard, aimed for where the two had just stood. A thud echoed across the stones.

" _Shit._ " Emily's brown eyes filled alarm as she took in the falling Minotaur. Miraz's guards had shot him full of arrows, before the usurper himself had pushed the beast off of the balcony, sending him spiraling to the ground. Dead.

The two lovers met eyes, coming to a silent agreement. The Guardian picked up a horn from one of the fallen Narnians and blew it in a rapid pattern. The signal for retreat.

"STOP THEM!"

Miraz's voice boomed across the courtyard. Arrow's began to rain down upon the Narnians as they began to rush out of the courtyard. One of the arrows flew just over the High King's head and imbedded itself in the wall. But not before it snapped a rope. The weight fell and the gates began to fall shut.

Peter looked at Emily.

"I'll find Su. Go, get yourself and Narnia to safety," she said. He opened his mouth to argue, to say anything to get her to change his mind, but she only glared at him. "You're worth more to Narnia alive then you are dead. And I understand that she's your sister- I do. But Susan is my family too. I will find her, my King."

"Bring her home safely, Guardian," Peter said before dashing off through the chaos, towards where Caspian stood, urging Narnian's to retreat, leaving Emily to blink back her tears.

Shaking her head, Emily looked around, scanning the courtyard hurriedly for the brunette queen.

A flash of red near the doors caught her eye. And stopped her dead.

A quiver of red Narnian arrows lay askew on the dark cobblestones. _Susan's quiver._ Emily slung it over her shoulder hurriedly, her pulse quickening. _Where was Susan?_

"My Lady, the High King wishes your retreat."

Emily looked up at Glenstorm, her brown eyes like a wall of steel. "Not without my queen."

Glenstorm trotted nervously. "Then you might be wanting this." From his shoulder, the centaur unslung a fair wooden bow. "I saw it discarded on the ground. Why the Gentle queen would discard such a thing-" His breath caught. "My Lady, look to the stairs."

Emily followed his gaze and felt faint. _**How did she not notice it beforehand?**_ She caught a glimpse of a violet dress and chained ankles.

Susan.

Emily knocked an arrow and fired. And fired, and fired. Every arrow hit its mark and one by one, each of the Telmarine soldiers whom surrounded the second-eldest Pevensie dropped to the stone- dead.

Narnia's Guardian knocked a sixth arrow and took aim. A glimmer of silver appeared at the queen's neck, drawing blood. Emily fingers shook, but she kept them on the bowstring, her thumb flicking over the red feather, her hand steadying.

She glanced around her. Narnians all around her were either dead, or dying. Her chest tightened, adrenaline kept her from feeling the pain. Tyrus, a Minotaur, was barely managing to keep the Iron Gate up so their forces could escape, but many remained fighting- fighting their long time enemy until the final breath left their bodies.

Miraz smiled at Narnia's Guardian. His gaze was taunting, teasing, and urging her to let the arrow fly. Let it fly and bury it in his neck- Her _uncle's_ neck. She still needed some time to wrap her mind around that.

Emily felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Go Milady, we will save Lady Susan." Emily gave the centaur a grave smile.

"Cover me."

The pair fought their way through the bloodbath, quickly and hastily, the cloak protecting Emily from any harm that came their way. By the time they had reached Tyrus, most of the remaining Narnian's had either fallen or had chosen to protect their Guardian with their lives. Glenstorm ducked under the gate. Peter stood at the edge of the drawbridge atop a horse. His blue eyes were piercing as the watched her.

Emily set in arrow into Susan's bow, aiming for the Usurper's head.

"FIRE!"

Miraz's cry echoed throughout the courtyard, "DO NOT LET THEM ESCAPE!"

Peter yelled out her name as she met Miraz's stare with an icy one of her own… and let the arrow fly.

The click of hundreds of crossbows sounded. Emily turned tail and ran, throwing herself under the gate just before it came slamming down, with Tyrus dead underneath.

Then she stopped. She stopped and turned, her eyes staying on those of the trapped Narnian's. But there was a fire in their eyes. The fire of Aslan.

"FOR NARNIA!" And the charged, attacking the Telmarines with renewed vigor. Peter grabbed Emily around her waist and hefted her onto the mare behind him.

She cried the entire way back to the How.

* * *

"What happened?" Lucy asked, eyeing her siblings and the army behind them. "Where's Susan?"

Peter huffed and took a step forward. "Ask him," he spat out, motioning with his sword in Caspian's direction.

"Pete-"

"Me?" Caspian cut Emily off. "You could have called it off! There was still time."

Peter turned back to face the Telmarine prince. "No there wasn't- thanks to you. If you'd kept to the plan, those soldiers might be alive right now…" He swallowed. "And my sister wouldn't be in the hands of your uncle!"

Peter walked over to Caspian and shoved him, hard.

"And, if you'd just stayed here like I suggested, they would all be here, alive and unharmed!" Caspian's voice rose, anger flooding his tone.

"You called us, remember?" Peter said scornfully.

"My first mistake-"

"No," the blond said, looking him dead in the eyes. Rage clouded the normally peaceful sapphire eyes. Rage… and sadness. "Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people."

Emily, who had been standing silently beside Edmund, her eyes red and puffy, watched this exchange of blame between her brother and her King.

Peter turned and began to stalk into the How.

"Hey!" Caspian yelled at him. "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia."

Peter's grim smile turned into a sneer. "You invaded Narnia. You have no more right to it than Miraz does!"

Caspian stormed off, his face an unreadable mask.

"You, him, your father… "Peter continued, "Narnia's better off without the lot of you!"

Caspian turned with a cry, and they both drew their swords. Each point at the neck of the other.

"Stop it!" Emily cried, rushing over to the pair.

They both froze, swords still drawn. Anger and rage shimmered in the air between them.

"Just stop it! Hundreds of Narnian's are dead, Susan is being held by Miraz and all you can do is shift the guilt from one another? How is that going to help us win this war?" Emily gave her brother a hard look. "I can understand if you can't yet keep your emotions in check-" she rounded on Peter. "-But from you, Narnia's _High King_. Everyone looks up to you Pete, especially now! So grow up and stop acting like children!"

With that Emily stormed of, stalking down the pathway to the How in a hurry; leaving an ashamed Peter and Caspian staring after her.

* * *

 **I know, I know, this chapter was really short- but I really wanted to upload something! Basically, the reason behind the length of this chapter is because I am going on a holiday for two days (starting tomorrow) and I won't have access to a computer.**

 **However! Next week I will edit this chapter and re-upload it- longer and better written, ok? Please don't be mad.**

 **Love you all! Please review if you can!**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	7. Chapter 7: The Summoning of Heartbreak

**Hey, ya'll!**

 **It's been… well… ages. I know I didn't keep my promise last time but I hope this… drum roll, please… doubleish update makes up for it. I had so much fun writing this chapter, but a fair bit of warning. Tissues may be needed towards the end (Don't say I didn't warn ya).**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Caspian watched his sister storm into the How. His sister. The thought still was strange to him, foreign. She was the Guardian, one of Narnia's five saviors. He had grown up hearing stories of her bravery and courage, her love for her country and its inhabitants. The Narnian's had loved her, admired her, and were willing to lay down their lives for her.

 _Would he ever live up to her legacy? He was only a Telmarine; would the Narnian's ever look at him with the admiration they gave her?_

Without realizing it, the Prince made his way into the How. He headed towards the Stone Table room, where he went when everything became too much, too overwhelming.

Caspian leaned his head back against the cool stone, his eyes in the carving on Aslan. The thought of the Great Lion never ceased to calm him.

"Are you so glad of that magic horn now, boy? The kings and queens have failed us. Your army is half dead. And those that aren't will be soon enough," a voice sneered, causing the Telmarine to jump to his feet, hand on his sword.

"What do you want?" He asked the dwarf. "Congratulations?"

Nikabrik watched him imploringly. "You want your uncle's blood. So do we. You want his throne. We can get it for you."

Caspian took a step away from the dwarf. "What are you implying?"

"You tried one ancient power. It failed. But there is a power greater still. One that kept even Aslan at bay for near a hundred years."

His tone was greedy, hungry even. But there was something underneath, a dark undertone that Caspian could not place.

Something scraped against the stones behind them. Caspian drew his sword in a single motion and stepped forward, blade brandished.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, covered head to toe in a long black cloak. Its movements had an elegant, yet animalistic grace to them.

"Who's there?" Caspian called out, not letting his voice waver for a moment.

A voice answered him. Low and gravelly. "I am hunger, I am thirst. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show…me…your enemies!"

The figure threw off its hood. Caspian swallowed as a second figure joined them. _A hag,_ He thought dejectedly.

"And you can guarantee Miraz's death?"

"And more," the hag whispered, running twisted fingers along the prince's arm.

Caspian shivered but sheathed his sword all the same. What he was doing was against his better instincts, but if there was a way to end the war before it began, he would do it, if it meant saving lives and protecting his, this, country.

He shared a glance with Nikabrik and the dwarf nodded, sending the werewolf and hag into action.

"Let the circle be drawn," the hag rasped and began to chant. The words were in an odd language. Something dark, and evil…. And ancient.

A screeching sound filled the air l, as the werewolf drew a nail across the floor, creating an incision in the shape of a circle around the Telmarine Prince. The hag's chanting grew louder, more powerful, more confident. Caspian's blood pumped faster, matching the beat of the chant. Faster and louder, louder and faster.

The hag circled Caspian, the werewolf's low voice had joined in the chanting. The temperature dropped. The Prince shivered. The hag pulled out a stick, a stick topped with a clear jewel. As the chanting grew louder, a blue light seems to glow, illuminating the cavern.

With a bone-chilling cry, the creature plunged the stick- the wand- into the ground.

Caspian didn't move. He couldn't move. A wave of terror held him in place. He watched with horrified fascination as a wall of ice exploded, expanding skyward between two pillars, covering up the stone image of Aslan.

A flicker. An image appeared within the ice.

Caspian's heart skipped a beat. He lurched away, trying to escape-

 _It can't be… she was destroyed. Aslan killed her._

"This isn't what I wanted!" He cried, pushing backward. The wolf and hag grabbed his arms, holding his place.

"One drop of Adam's blood and you free me. Then I am yours, my king," she crooned, her blonde hair floating eerily within the ice.

"No!"

Nikabrik took Caspian by the wrist. Holding him in place, the dwarf drew a blade across his palm, cutting open the skin there. Blood welled up, shining harshly in the dim light.

The White Witch reached out, and much to Caspian's horror, her arm protruding from the icy wall. A smile crossed her features.

Chocolate-brown met bright blue (?). He heard the witch's sharp intake of breath, but her smile remained fixed. Her eyes captivated him. He felt his guard slip. Maybe… maybe Nikabrik was right. Looking to Aslan was a lost cause. The lion hadn't sent a sign since he escaped his uncle's clutches.

 _But he sent them. The kings, and queens…. And Emily._ The more reasonable part of his brain argued. _He must be goo-_

"Stop!"

The cry echoed through the chamber, breaking Caspian's trance. Peter, Edmund, Lucy, and Trumpkin ran into the room, weapons brandished.

Edmund rushes forward. A howl pierced the air as his sword cut into the werewolf, killing him before jumping back and disappearing from Caspian's view.

Metal flashed as the two dwarfs brought their swords up. Eyes flashing as they each took in familiar faces, a friend turned foe. In a quick movement, the black dwarf had disarmed his friend, knocking him to the ground.

Across the room, Peter faced off with the hag, claws scraping against steel. Lucy cried out in pain as Nikabrik twisted her arm around, pinning her in place. The creature used the boy's distraction to its advantage and knocked Rhindon out of the High King's hands. Peter stepped back as it swung at him with a snarl. He ducked under its arms just in time and pushed the hag into a pillar, where it crumpled and lay motionless.

Caspian hadn't moved.

The Witch kept reaching out to touch him. To touch his blood. "Come on," she muttered half to herself.

The blond Pevensie turned towards the unnatural source of light, and his grin faded away. "Get away from him!" He shouted, rushing and shoving the Telmarine out of the way.

Jadis falls back. Her smile fading for only a second before it fell back into place, brighter than before. "Peter dear… I have missed you. Come, just one drop." Her voice was silky and soft. Pleading even.

She extended a hand towards Peter. "You know you can't do this alone."

Peter hesitated. He has seen Jadis' power, had been at the receiving end of it at one point…. But Aslan hadn't shown. Not yet anyway. And Narnia needed every weapon in their arsenal if they were to reclaim what was rightfully theirs. He lowered Rhindon and took half a step forward when-

A shining point had cut its way through the ice. The wall shattered, revealing a battered Edmund, a disappointed expression on his face.

"I know," he said, his tone tight and frustrated. "You had it sorted." The Just King gave his brother a look before stepping off the dais and walking past them.

Peter and Caspian glanced at each other, the weight of their actions suddenly crashing over them. What they had almost done. The carving of Aslan seemed to glow in the firelight. Together they turned. All the color drained out of both their faces.

Emily stood there, her eyes stony.

"Out."

The one word, a simple command, had them all moving. Them all except for the two men who stood side by side faces pale. Edmund gave the Guardian a sympathetic smile, as did Lucy and Trumpkin.

"You too, Caspian." Her voice was soft and barely audible. "I would like to speak to the High King _alone."_

Peter swallowed. The last time he had heard Emily use this tone was during the Golden Age; when he had accidentally (maybe not so accidentally) pushed her into a stream. She had kissed him passionately, but not before she had grabbed the edges of his tunic and had pulled him in beside her.

He moved forward, towards her. Her usually sparkling eyes were red, filled with sadness… and disappointment. A pang of guilt threatened to swallow him as he realized _it was because of him._

"Emmy-"

"Why, Peter?" She cut him off swiftly. "Why did you hesitate?" Her voice cracked, a tear slipped down her face, a breach in her self-built mental shields.

By Jove, he was an idiot. He cursed himself for not thinking, for not thinking of the larger picture, _of her._ "Emmy, I-"

"Just stop, Pete. Stop." Emily lifted her head, trying to blink away the cascade of tears that were beginning to spill over. "After everything, she did, to Narnia, to your siblings…. To us," she added quietly, making her to him slowly. "How could you even think for a moment to ally yourself with her? To ally yourself with the person who nearly killed your brother? The person who kept my mother as a garden gnome for decades? How could you Peter?"

He had forgotten about Amelia. In those moments of hesitation, of uncertainty, he had forgotten who he was dealing with: Jadis, the final member of the house of Charn, the White Witch of Narnia, the Usurper Queen of winter; Jadis, who used magic and tricks and illusions and deceit to achieve her goals.

"Emily, listen to me," he said, taking her hand in his. He had to make this right. If not, he was going to lose the love of his life, for the second time. "I would never have allied with her, you must believe me, Emmy."

"I- By Aslan, Pete, all I want to do is believe you. I do. But you must understand, I watched her kill you, I watched her slaughter hundreds of Narnian's underfoot as if they were nothing more than mere insects. I've seen her look at them as a bother, not as people. She has no love for these people, for our people." Emily ran a hand through her hair. She made no move to wipe away her tears though.

"And what did you suppose she was going to do after we saved Susan and overthrew Miraz? That she would stay locked up in a cell? Did you really think she would sit quietly and let us kill her? She would have killed us all first."

Aslan's Lieutenant was breathing hard. The High King was too. Sapphire-blue eyes were stained red. Peter was shaking, regret eating away at his thoughts, his words. He wanted to do a million things. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her troubles away, mumbling an apology every time they came up to breathe. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hug her, enveloping her in warmth until she understood that the only reason he would ever ally with Jadis was to keep her and Narnia safe.

But he couldn't do any of those things. Not with her eyes freezing him in place with a stare.

Emily drew a shaky breath, calming her nerves before continuing. "I can't do this Pete. Having a relationship with the monarchy… it never ends well. Not in the long run anyway, and especially not here, not now."

"Em,'' He placed a hand on her cheek. "Emmy, please-"

She shrugged out of his touch, turning her head to the side. "I'm sorry Peter, but I can't, not right now; maybe when we get back home, back to England. I-" Narnia's Guardian swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," she whispered, placing something at the edge of the table. Placing a kiss on his brow she left the cavern, leaving behind a shattered boy and a broken heart.

The tears fell. Not slowly and gracefully, rather it felt as if a dam had broken at Emily's words, letting loose gallons upon gallons of tears. Peter's breathing came out in ragged pants.

 _Why did it hurt so much?_

Because he was the one who had caused her this pain. He had hesitated. He had almost agreed, had almost given into the temptation. Peter slid to his knees; his shoulders slumped in defeat, his eyes never leaving the edge of the stone table.

Never leaving the delicate silver ring Emily had placed there.

* * *

 **Soooo… how many of ya'll want to kill me? Just curious. I just need to know how defensible I need to make my top-secret bunker, hehe. Anyway, this was supposed to be a double update, however, due to the fact that my parents threatened to take away my laptop if I didn't go to sleep, I will post chapter 8 either tomorrow or on Saturday (I'm nearly finished with the chapter).**

 **Love you all! Please review- it only takes a second and it would mean the world to me. Thank you :)**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	8. Chapter 8: The Truth Revealed

**Hey, guys!**

 **Chapter 8 as promised. Now let's keep this A/N short and sweet right?**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Emily rode fast, fast and hard. She needed to get away, get away from the stares, the pitying glances. For the first time since she had discovered Narnia, she felt lost in the country, alone and scared.

Peter and Caspian… they had almost brought back her worst enemy. The person who constantly haunted her nightmares to the point where her mother would have to shake her awake and hold her tight; rubbing comforting circles on her back and whispering. What she said didn't matter; she was telling Emily that she was there and that she was safe.

The scenery passed by in a blur of green, brown, and gold. Emily could still remember the time when she had run through these woods, when the colors had been the white and gray of winter, to the waterfall to protect the ones she loved. She smiled at the memory; it sent a wave of calming warmth through her, relaxing her mind. Digging her heels lightly into the mare's side, the horse slowed to a stop. Emily had never ridden a horse in Narnia using reins and a saddle. It felt wrong to her. Even when Mr. Tumnus and Kalis had tried to bribe her to use saddles, she had refused. The animals here were her friends, they were part of her.

She slipped off her horse and let it roam, knowing that it wouldn't wander too far away from the clearing she had stopped at. Reaching up, she unclasped the silver pin at her throat and let her cloak flutter to the ground, covering the multi-colored leaves with liquid moonlight. She closed her eyes, letting the sun's rays wash over, washing away her fear and guilt, her grief and pain.

Time passed. Seconds, hours, minutes; Emily couldn't guess, but when a branch snapped from just beyond the clearing, all signs of serenity were gone and her guard was up. Cloak wrapped around her shoulders and fingers wrapped around the hilt of her silver dagger.

As the figure stepped into the clearing, Emily let out a low and humorless laugh. "If you stomp about like that, brother, we'll never be able to take Miraz's army by surprise."

Caspian gave her a small smile. "I'm glad that you are not one of his soldiers then," he said. His voice lacked its usual gusto, its usual mirth, and jokiness. "Emily, I-"

She stopped him with a careless wave of her hand; as she replaced the blade at her waist, tucking it into the dwarf-made sheath that she had gotten from her mother ages ago. "I know what you're going to say Caspian. That you're sorry, well, don't waste your breath. I forgive you."

"But Peter-" he argued. Who was he to receive her forgiveness when the High King had not received any? At least, that is what he had assumed, by the sobs he had heard coming from the Stone Table room as he passed by, on his way to retrieve Destrier to begin his search for Emily. He had asked a passing faun to send Lucy to keep an eye on her brother.

"Peter knew what he was doing. He-" Emily took a deep breath. "He knew what Jadis did to me and yet, he still hesitated, he still tried to bring her back. Still tried…" She trailed off, eyes glistening as she remembered her earlier conversation with her lover. "God, Cas. What have I done?" Emily slid to the ground, her head in her hands. She messed up. And now Peter probably hated her. The things she said... It would have probably been kinder to knock him over the head with Rhindon.

Leaves crunched and tore as the Telmarine sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his touch. Caspian stiffened in surprise; he did not expect this reaction. However, despite the fact that they had met only days ago, he did not find it surprising; it was as if they had been doing it all their lives, going to one another for comfort when the weight of the world becomes too heavy. Maybe it was because of their sibling bond, he didn't know. All he knew was that Emily was his sister, and he was going to protect her against the world.

So he held her, stroking her hair and murmuring words of comfort as she cried into his shoulder and told him everything. Stories of their mother, of her time in Narnia, of her disappearance; of Emily's discovery of Narnia and her role as its Guardian up until the day Aslan returned her to Professor Kirke's mansion in the country side.

"Tell me more about him," Caspian asked suddenly once Emily had finished talking. "Tell me about Aslan. Is he safe?"

A smile danced on Emily's lips as she recalled Susan asking Mr. Beaver nearly the same question when they had first came to Narnia. When all they wanted to do was help Lucy find her friend and return home, and not have the duty of protecting a country of innocents.

"Safe?" Emily said, quoting the wise old Beaver. She wondered if the clock he had made them still stood within Cair Paravel… if the castle still stood at all. "Who said anything about safe? Of course, he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you; the King of the whole wood, the Highest of High Kings."

The explanation did not seem to reassure the prince, but some tension seemed to drain out of his shoulders all the same. The two siblings lay there in silence, Emily's cloak spread beneath them, their eyes on the sky. A cool breeze brushed its way across both their faces, stirring the leaves around them. It was peaceful, relaxing. Within moments Emily's eyelids were heavy and slowly falling closed. She hadn't felt this at peace in relaxed since…since the Pevensie's final day in Narnia.

The sun had begun to sink in the sky, casting a golden glow all across the treetops. It was magical, Caspian thought, like the dawn of creation. Was this what it was like when Narnia was first created? A sudden movement within the shadows of a tree caught his attention. He tapped Emily's shoulder, waking her up. She saw his expression and rolled over, her dagger appearing in her hand.

Emily instinctively stepped in front of Caspian, her duty to protect Narnia's monarchy always her top priority in a fight, no matter who it was. "Show yourself," she called out, raising her voice. The leaves of the tree fluttered, the only indication of whatever was hiding there.

"Are you sure you saw something, Cas?" Emily asked, bending to retrieve her cloak, after being sure that no Telmarine soldier was planning on jumping out at them from behind the trees.

The Telmarine Prince nodded, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "I am positive."

"Then wh-"

"Caspian." A voice, low and accented, echoed across the clearing. A figure came into existence. A man donned in an exquisite and finely made tunic.

Telmarine.

Emily's dagger was flying before Caspian or the stranger managed to react. It passed _through_ him and lodged itself in a wizened oak tree which grew behind him. The Guardian sent up a silent apology to whichever Dryad she had just impaled and gaped at the stranger. He cocked his head to the side, a curious twinkle in his eyes. There was something familiar about the man, that Emily was sure of. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

"Caspian?" She said, chancing a glance at him. Behind her, her brother stood unmoving, his face pale and eyes wide, and lips moving soundlessly. "Who…" She looked back and forth between the two men.

The newcomer wore a crisp, tailored uniform decorated in medals. A midnight-black cape fell from his shoulders, pooling at his feet, contrasting sharply with his deep blue and gold uniform and brown boots. He stood tall, head held high. There was an air about him that could not be ignored but respected. And while his demeanor was sharp and commanding, his eyes were filmed with warmth…they were the eyes that she saw staring back at her in the mirror every day.

It clicked. The way he held himself, his posture; the way he moved, sweeping his eyes from her to Caspian, and back to her. A familiar smile crossed his features as he took in her shock. He was-

"Father.''

Caspian the Ninth stepped forward, arms extended, towards his children. "Emiliana, you look-"

"Emily." The Guardian's tone was cold, indifferent. As if the knowledge that this man, or spirit, was her father made no impact on her view of him. To her, he was still the enemy, still a filthy Telmarine who had invaded and pillaged her beloved country, and worse- had left her mother when she needed him most. "It's Emily," she continued. "Call me Emiliana again and I'll cut out your tongue."

Caspian flinched, as did her father. The prince had never heard Emily use this tone. What had their father done? He watched in silence as she took a step towards him, her features coated in icy disdain.

"The only reason you are still standing here in one piece is that I know for a fact that you are dead. Killed by your brother-" Caspian the Ninth recoiled at the word. "- and he now rules this country. My country." Her brown eyes were like balls of fire as they regarded her father. She pulled her dagger from the tree and faced him. "I would like to know what in the name of Aslan is going on, or so help me god- dead or not, I'll find a way to kill you again."

The dead King watched his daughter with tears in his eyes. She was so much like Amielle, _Amelia,_ it hurt. With her stubbornness and protectiveness and loyalty to others, she could almost pass as a younger version of her mother. He may not have been there for her, but he watched her from Aslan's Country the last time she had come to Narnia, had watched her fight for the ones she cared about, had watched her grow. It broke his heart when she looked at him with all that fury and pent-up rage.

"Emily," He started slowly, the word tasting strange on his tongue. "I know that you probably have many negative thoughts about me, however-"

"You could say that," Emily huffed angrily. "You left, out of the blue. You left my mother alone and broken! Did you even care? Did you even know you had a daughter?"

The king looked down, his eyes tracing the patterns of the leaves on the ground. "I-"

"And don't you dare, do not even think about saying you left out of duty to your country. Sometimes your family has to come-"

"Emily," Caspian (the Tenth) said softly, effectively cutting off his sister's rant before it got out of hand. "Let him explain." His voice washed over Emily, soothing her anger until it dulled to a blunt point.

Aslan's Lieutenant removed her dagger from the tree and swiftly replaced it in its sheath at her side. Her emotions were rioting; her vision was clouded by rage, anger, and hatred. But Caspian was right. The last time she had let her emotions overtake her judgment it hadn't ended well… for either party.

"Fine," she sighed finally, taking a seat on a nearby rock, eyeing the two men. "I'll hear your reasoning for leaving us, but there is no guarantee that I'll agree with it."

The two Caspian's regarded her with identical concern. She shivered slightly under their shared stares. Emily wasn't used to having someone care for her, let alone have two men she barely knew look at her with such intense worry and caring. Finally, the older Telmarine sat, his cloak fanned out behind him. The other moved to a half crouch beside him.

The King cleared his throat before beginning.

"Time is fluid. This is true in all realms, dimensions, and worlds. Every moment that passes exists constantly, in the past, the present, and future. These moments swirl together like a perfectly painted tapestry to create what we know as time. And with the right power, one may tap into what we call 'Time' and do with it what he pleases. Speeding it up, slowing it down…" He met his daughter's eyes. "…or freeze it completely.

"When Aslan sent me to England to your mother, Emily, he used up much of his energy and magic to manipulate time. Freezing the time now, in the future, after Telmar invaded Narnia, and slowing down the present, back then, when your mother fought against Jadis the first time.

"I don't think he counted on Amielle and I falling in love." He sighed, absentmindedly crushing a leaf into powder between his fingers. "Emily, the two years I was with your mother were the most outstanding and wonderful years of my life. It all became much harder to return to my time when we found out that she was pregnant… with twins."

"Then why did you leave? Why not stay?" Emily cut in, her voice thick with tears. "Why did you leave if you could've stayed?" Her shoulders were slumped. She looked broken, small, vulnerable.

Her father shook his head. "Ten months later Aslan came to both of us in a dream and told us that his hold on time was wavering and that I was needed to return to my place as the Telmarine King of Narnia. Amielle and I… we both knew what we were needed to do. So it was agreed. She would raise you there, in England, while I raised Caspian in Telmar. Emily, I-" He choked off, a pained expression coming over his features.

"Father?" The younger Caspian shot to his feet, Emily only moments behind him.

He smiled up at both of them.

"I am proud of you both. For whom you've become, and who you are meant to become. I love you both and I'm sorry."

His voice was swept up into the wind as he disappeared, his body dissolving in a flash of golden light. A wave of warmth followed the sudden brightness.

An uneasy silence fell over the twins. The clung to each other, holding tight and not letting go, not wanting to let go. Only when a cool breeze chilled them both did they break apart, eyes red with tears.

"We should go," Emily said eyes on the darkened sky. "The others are probably worried sick."

Caspian couldn't help but agree.

* * *

 **I know, crappy chapter ending. But in my defense, it's like nearly 3 am and I was running out of ideas for the ending.**

 **I hope the whole reasoning behind how Emily and Caspian are siblings made sense- if it didn't let me know, I'll try to clarify it in future chapters. Thx :)**

 **Please review! They really do make my day!**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	9. Chapter 9: Sparks and Ashes

Soft and timid footsteps echoed through the silent chamber around him. The High King of Narnia slowly raised his head, eyes red as he took in the figure before him. "Hey." Voice hoarse, Peter tried for a smile and failed. His mouth refusing to respond to his brains commands.

"Oh, Peter." Watching him for a moment with sympathy clear in her eyes, Lucy Pevensie dropped to her knees and hugged her older brother, carding a hand through his hair. "It's alright, it'll be alright. I promise."

Torchlight flickered, flames slowly dying out as all their strength went into melting the remaining ice shards into dripping puddles. Peter tightened his grip on Lucy, The Valiant Queen becoming his rock, a steadying force in the roiling sea of his emotions. Fire crackled. Quiet filtered in between the cracks, finding its way into both siblings' minds. Silence descended over the Table Room like a warm breath, Aslan's breath. Lucy looked over her brother's shoulder; an eye finding the Lion's carved high up on the wall. _Fitting,_ the queen thought. _He does watch over us all._

"Everything… Everything happens for a reason." She ducked her head to meet his azure gaze. The band in Peter's chest tightened at her look, Emily's ring burning in his pocket. "Sometimes, the only thing we can have is hope," Lucy paused, running a hand down his back. "Hope that it will resolve itself, that there is a solution right around the corner, simply waiting for us to find it."

Emotion clogging his throat and the blond closed his eyes against her shoulder. "When'd you- When'd you get so wise, Lu?"

"I learned it all from you." The youngest Pevensie pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling at him. "Sometime between then and now, if you must know."

* * *

The ride back to The How was fast, hurried. Not a word shared between the two siblings as the sky darkened from blue to purple to red, fading then into a velvety sheet of blackness, dusted with starlight. The two riders broke the tree line, setting into a quick gallop, their horses eating up the darkened expanse that remained between them and The How.

Nearing the ancient stronghold, Caspian brought his stallion to Emily's side; words barely audible over the rush of air. Words confused, the Telmarine pointed forward. "What are they doing?"

"A pyre," Emily breathed when she saw where he pointed, nudging her mare to go faster. "They're building a funeral pyre."

"For the fallen. They have not moved on." Glenstorm raised his eyes to their approach as Emily slid from her horse. "I can read their names within the stars; can hear their voices within the passing winds. They are in anguish, Lady Guardian."

"I have done nothing worthy of the title, General." Emily slipped easily into the formal way of speaking, enough so, that Caspian wondered how well his sister knew the ways of the royal courts. Her cloak shimmered on a cool breeze, shrinking back into its silver pendant.

The centaur offered her a desolate smile, stepping aside as a faun heaved a block of wood onto the growing pile before them. "Then I, more so, have done nothing of worth. For a General who leads his people into a slaughter makes for a woeful commander."

The words caught The Guardian in the heart, a barb, and latched there beside the ache of losing the people she had sworn to protect with her life. _And had failed_. "What can I do to help?" She drew herself as tall as she could, meeting the General's gaze. "How may I assist?"

"May you grace their souls in prayer?"

Emily could only nod, as minutes later the pyre had been built and the Narnian's had assembled. She cleared her throat, voice faltering as dozens of eyes turned to her. But the eyes who watched weren't those of the Narnian's. They were the eyes of the dead who watched her, their screams filling the air, pleads for help ringing in her ears.

Tugging at the silver Lion's pendant at her throat, the silence became a buzzing white noise in her ears; insistent and blaming. _An arrow whistled past her ear as she tumbled from Fledge's back, landing in a roll and coming up in a crouch. A whine of pain not too far away told her that the missile had found its mark and she turned towards Peter, eyes being drawn on the way to figure lying motionless on the dark stones. The black-tipped feather protruded from the chest of a faun, face hidden behind his helmet But Emily could tell that he was young. Young and strong and-_

Caspian rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently in reassurance. She swallowed hard and allowed his touch to ground her, focusing on his warmth at her side. "Yesterday was a dark day for- for all of us, one that could've been prevented." Her words turned quiet and she was suddenly thankful for the darkness that enveloped the clearing, thankful because the weight of guilt threatened to crush her underfoot. "Storming the Telmarine stronghold did not go as planned-" _And it's your fault._ "It was a massacre upon our forces." Stumbling over her words, her cheeks heated. _Your fault, your fault, your-_

"We- I-" Emily bowed her head as she sunk to her knees, palms upraised and open. "I beg for your forgiveness." _Your fault, your fault, your fault your fault yourfaultyourfaultyourfault._ The words left her on a wisp of breath, the rest of her speech crumbling to ashes. "I beg for your forgiveness."

Low murmurs rippled through the crowd in a receding wave. Someone had started crying. And The Guardian knelt there, unmoving; unmoving and still until a small hand tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to look up. With soft golden hair and amber-brown eyes, the younger centaur seemed familiar. _Fenstar._ The name rose in her mind. He had a sister, with a darker complexion. She had seen them around the-

"My sister went to fight at the castle," he said, eyes bright and sad. Fenstar watched her, his voice soft and gentle. "She didn't come back, and I really miss her."

Emily started shaking, her vision beginning to blur with the start of tears. _You killed her, you killed them. You killed them all. You couldn't save them from the White Witch and no more could you save them now._

"But I forgive you." A warm hand tilted her head up gently, wiping away the wicked voice in her ear. "She died to keep me safe, so did the others who went. And I don't think that's your fault." Fenstar offered her a hand. "I don't think any of them would think that it's your fault, Lady Guardian."

There was a lump in her throat, a band tightening around her chest and suddenly she felt everything and nothing at all. But… She shook her head. But those people, dead in that damned courtyard, had not died in vain. She had a job to do- a fight to finish and win. Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself, she straightened. "Okay," she swallowed and took his hand, rising to her feet. "Thank you."

"From the glistening eastern sea to the great western woods," Eyes rimmed with red, Emily took up the torch offered to her with a trembling hand and raised her chin high, hiding the guilt that threatened to choke her so desperately. "From the radiant southern sun to the clear northern skies," flame arched through the air before it landed atop the pile of kindling. There was a hair's breadth of a pause and the pile burst into a scorching mess of fire and wind. "Fallen heroes of Narnia," the stars grew brighter as if they themselves wished to be present to honor the dead. "May you pass forth easily and peacefully into the Lion's- the Lion's country, and from this world's burden be free."

Firelight danced and crackled as through the night, casting fearful and twisting shadows across the grass. Sparks burst, flying high up on their way to the heavens as daybreak neared quickly. And it was a long while before Emily could tear her stare away from the smoldering ashes, eyes turning to the glint of silver at her waist. Her dagger.

She drew it, watching it glint in the near-morning light, rays of pink turning the unforgiving silver into a beautiful accessory of death. A flicker of brown reflecting in the blade had Susan appearing in her mind's eye. Guilt closed around her heart like shards of ice.

"I should have been the one to apologize." Peter folded his arms to his chest against the faint chill, eyes full of sadness and remorse as he gazed into the flames. "It was my idea to bring the fight to Miraz. I lead them all to their deaths."

Emily didn't so much as turn towards him, trying not to flinch, sheathing the dagger away securely once more. "You lead them in with a plan. Things go wrong, Peter, they always have. You can't blame yourself for everything turning south."

"And do you really believe that?" He spoke quietly, staring down at his hands. "That it wasn't your fault to protect the people you swore to look out for? I made an oath to mum that I would look out for them, and now Susan… Failed Su, failed mum, Ed, Lu." Peter shook his head and it was all Emily could do to not reach out to comfort him. "Even the Narnian's all-round the How are giving me looks."

Emily clasped her hands together, trying to pull them apart again and ignore the second stab of shame right under her ribs. "We'll get Susan back; I swear it on my life. Even if I have to fight my way through the Telmarine army, I will get her back for you."

The eldest Pevensie nodded, turning something over in his hands before hesitantly speaking again. "Are you going to stay mad at me forever, Emmy? I made a mistake, but can you blame me for thinking that maybe we would've had a shot at winning this war with her?"

Sparks of firelight reflected in Emily's dark eyes, "Aslan will help us."

Peter stiffened. "Aslan? Aslan isn't coming. He would've shown himself by now."

"He does things for a reason, Peter." The cloak ruffled around her on a phantom wind. "I think you need some of Lucy's faith. We both know how he is; he'll make a grand entrance when the time's right."

"And when is that? Once we're all dead?"

"It's whenever he decides it to be; maybe after some pompous ass chooses to believe that there is actually hope in fighting a war, that as great as Aslan might be, we have to put in our effort as well."

"Maybe." He shifted, running one hand through his hair, sleepless nights showing in the dark shadows under his eyes. A gleam of regret went through Emily in dark purple as a memory of long nights bending over maps in the war room of Cair Paravel, falling asleep in the straight-backed chairs when a servant came in the next morning to light a small fire. "I'm sorry. I truly am."

She stepped to his side, on instinct brushing a lock of hair that had fallen out of place. Peter leaned into her touch. "When's the last time you got a good night's sleep, Pete?" Her words were soft, searching the blue in his eyes for something.

"Emmy," the High King spoke on an exhale, pressing the object into her other palm. " _Amour conquiert tous."_ Edges of a shining windflower bit into her skin as she closed her hand, swallowing hard. _"_ I know- I know you're still mad at me, but this still belongs to you. Do with it whatever you wish."

Tears pricked the back of her eyes while she slipped the ring onto her finger. "You're an idiot, you know that?" Closing her eyes, Emily slipped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest.

Peter wrapped her close, dropping a kiss to her hair, spun gold in the rising sun. "And a pompous ass, according to some."

"Come on then," Emily took his hand, squeezing it lightly and meeting his eyes. "We have a war to fight. One which I intend to win."

* * *

 **Oh gosh, how do I even start this?**

 **Almost a year since I posted chapter 8. It's been a long year, a really long year to say the least. Amongst family crap, finals, and losing any and all motivation to write for a good few months, I'm eternally grateful for you guys staying with me through it and waiting for the next chapter.**

 **I'm dedicating this chapter to Ro222 for all the inspiration, help, and Sherlock Gifs that kept me going as I wrote this. Have some fluffy PeterXEmily :)**

 **I'm really praying that writer's block doesn't decide to make an appearance because I thought of such an incredible battle scene that I'm itching to share with you guys. I can't wait.**

 **Love you all, and so so grateful.**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	10. Chapter 10: Challenged to the Clue

There was nothing. _Nothing._ Not even a hint, a whisper, of a secret hideaway where Susan might be being held by the Telmarines. Running a hand through his hair, frustration beginning to bleed past his iron-fisted control, Edmund scanned the documents piled high on the ancient wooden table. Useless. Every one of them.

The Narnian's had been through when the Just King had asked them for every bit of information they had acquired on the enemy army. Everything from scout's reports, to estimated numbers and intercepted correspondence, had been brought forth from dust-covered shelves and piled into one of the rooms just of the main corridor of the How.

Rubbish.

It was all a load of rubbish and a complete waste of time. An entire pile of nothing.

And it took every scrap of his willpower not to upend the ancient wooden table over, spilling the dozens of pages to the ground.

Edmund exhaled heavily, slumping into one of the many straight-backed chairs and dropped his head to his hands. He hadn't felt this helpless in a long time. Images of the Final Battle echoed in his mind; scarlet blood sticking the tunic to his skin, warming the sliver of space between it and the armor with Peter fighting Jadis mere feet away. And then Emily had been standing over him. Then Lucy and a different sort of warmth had spread through him, one that was filled with sunlight and spring.

A cool draft that drifted its way across the small room was the Pevensie's only warning before a warm hand clapped his shoulder and Caspian's friendly tone filled the air. "The entire How echoes with your thoughts Edmund, turning the men restless." He studied the table, titles of documents catching his attention. "Anything?"

 _Suspicious Telmarines._ The bare ghost of a smile flutters across his lips. Caspian's people did remind him of all the old women selling trinkets to ward off evil back home, with their omens and speculations of fate. "Nothing," The smile slipped off his face as he shoved away a crumbling piece of parchment. "Back to square one."

"We will find her," Caspian pulled out the chair to his left and took a seat." "I give you my word."

"That so?" Edmund studied the prince with amusement. "Why do you want to find her so badly?"

Stilling under the gaze the king leveled him, Emily's brother shifted. "I – She is the Gentle Queen of Old, and your sister. It is my duty- to Narnia to bring her back safe."

"Sure," a smirk dancing across the other's lips. "But I will warn you, that if you break her heart, Susan may be the Gentle Queen, but she is quite capable of killing you with a very large arsenal of weapons."

"And you and Peter-"

"Su would be pissed if we started presiding over her love life. Aslan only knows how many times she's threatened to pitch me off of Cair Paravel's balconies for scaring away suitors." A thick silence descended across the room, sinking deep into the earthen walls. "If- we find her."

"We will find her." Caspian pulled a report towards him, scanning the contents without really reading it. "My uncle is not one to act on hasty decisions."

Edmund dragged his hands over his face, tension lining his every movement. "Time," his voice was weary, a king not used to losing those close to him. Who has seen battle, and war, but does not wish to see any more death. "We just need some more time."

Time. _Time._ Eyes widening, the Telmarine leaned forward and looked toward the Just King. "I think there might be a way to buy us some time to search." Pulling close a sheaf of parchment and a discarded piece of charcoal, he scrawled out the first few lines of a letter. "Miraz may be a tyrant and a murderer. But as king, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people."

And as the second-youngest Pevensie angled his head to read the words, the light of hope reigniting itself in his eyes. "Brilliant." He grinned. "That's brilliant."

* * *

Dusk was oncoming and swift, the air becoming frigid with cold. And yet the forest loomed as it always did, dark and menacing. To Emily's eyes though, it was enticing. Inviting. There had always been a spark in her blood for the unknown, the mystical, and magical.

The sky darkening above, she watched as a distant plume of smoke rose through the trees, presumably from one of the Telmarine war camps. A flinch runs through her as a memory of the day the dryads had vanished plays in her mind. _Never again,_ she silently swore. _Never again._

"The view is remarkable, is it not?" Emily didn't flinch, so much as turn, as Doctor Cornelius took up a seat beside her, feet swinging over the edge of the rock overhang. He pulled the thin scrap of fabric which served as a blanket closer to him, gaze drifting over the distance. "I have always wished to venture into the forest. Perhaps find my mother's people."

"You knew my father." The Guardian spoke blandly, bringing her knees to her chest against the chill.

The Doctor shifted, folding his hands in his lap, a hint of pride hidden in his words. "Your father was a good man, a good king. He ruled Narnia with no fear, that of Telmarine or native. Only the heart of his brother held a grudge."

"And you never thought to tell Caspian the truth?"

"I risked my life all these years so that one day, he might be a better king than those before him." Cornelius turned his head away from the beckoning Western Woods; the lamppost Emily knew was hidden beneath that canopy of green. "To become the most noble contradiction in history: The Telmarine who saved Narnia."

Emily twisted the ancient signet ring around her finger, face grave in the morning sunlight. "He has not failed you yet."

"We can only hope."

* * *

They were old; most of them anyway, the collection of the assembled lords of Telmar. And Emily highly doubted that any of them had seen war, true bloodshed and battle. Heard the screams of metal on metal mixing with the silence and groans of the dead or dying, or watched as friends keel over dead around them. She held the stare of one of the younger lords, a scar marring his features from the corner of his eye to his jaw. When she didn't back down or cower, he dropped the look, retreating to his notes as if burned. _Smart man._

"...to the death. The reward shall be total surrender." The Just King silenced Miraz's calculating gaze with one of his own, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile. He rolled up the scroll carefully, perfectly at ease within the tent of his enemies.

"Tell me, Prince Edmund-"

"King." Cutting Miraz off, the Edmund turned the scroll over in his hands, his words keeping their casual tone at the insult.

The Usurper started. And Emily, along with Edmund, had to stifle their laughter with royal expertise at the shock plastered across his face. Lords around the table shifted, the air within the tent filling with unpreceded tension. "Pardon?"

Emily straightened casually, her necklace flashing brightly as it caught the light. "It's King Edmund actually." And when the lords of Telmar turned towards her in surprise, she met each of their stares with an icy one of her own.

"Just King though." Edmund's presence drew the attention away from the Guardian as he fastened the scroll closed fully. An auburn-haired lord watched him intently, studying the young king with awe. "Peter is the High King. I know," an artful shrug, a show of humility and patience. All with the air of explaining the monarchy to a child. "It's confusing."

Miraz leaned forward, eyes narrowed and arms bracing on the wooden surface. From outside, the noise of a bustling war camp filtered in. "Why would we risk such a proposal when our army could wipe you out by nightfall?"

"Haven't you already underestimated our numbers?" Emily's fingers twitched closer to her dagger. And if her king noticed the simmering aura of rage that had settled around her, he made no comment. "Only a week ago, Narnian's were extinct."

Some of those assembled shifted, and some of the smarter ones dared to cast glances over towards Glenstorm and the Giant Wimbleweather. The two Narnian's observed the camp with a vague disinterest. _A fear among the men,_ Emily noted with a sense of satisfaction and pride. _Good._

"Narnian's weren't the only myth brought to life. You yourself, majesty," Miraz sneered the word, lips curving with distaste. "Your own tale is one of legends and ghosts. There are many stories of you and your siblings, some entombed in that stone crypt. Others are hidden away in the ice."

The temperature seemed to drop by multiple degrees. There had been a triumph in the Usurper's voice, an icy glint that sent Emily's blood roaring. The Telmarines who had seemed uneasy before were now smiling. Smirking. Every bit of willpower she possessed was put into keeping her expression unreadable mask.

But Edmund was a natural born politician. He knew how to play these games of the court and power. At the Just King's hand, words and letters could become as sharp as the finest dwarf made blade. "Then you should have little to fear. For ghosts cannot do people ay harm, can they not?"

Miraz laughed loudly, glancing at his men. "This is not a question of bravery."

"So, you're bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?"

Silence.

A flicker of anger appeared in her uncle's eyes as he leaned forward. Thumbing the hilt of her blade, the tension in the room became solid, and Emily prepared to throw herself into the line of fire. "I did not say I refused."

The young lord with the scar who had been admiring Narnia's Guardian, cleared his throat, eyes rising only slightly. "You shall have our support, your majesty, whatever your decision."

"Sire," gray-haired and sharp-tongued, it was the Lord Sopespian who laid a hand flat on the dark surface, his voice laced with a coy edge. His eyes roamed across Edmund and Emily, observant and old. And just like the second youngest Pevensie, a natural born politician. "Our military advantage alone allows us the perfect excuse to avoid-"

"I am not avoiding anything!" It was all Emily could do not to draw her blade then and there as Miraz pushed back his chair with a roar, unsheathing his sword towards the older man in a single, fluid motion.

Sopespian cowered, surrender and a hidden spark coiled in the air as he raised both palms in defeat. "I am merely pointing out that my lord is well within his rights to refuse."

"His Majesty would never refuse," a well-oiled voice spoke from the tent's entrance. Emily turned her head to watch as he met Lord Sopespian's eyes with a burning but controlled, defiance. "He relishes the chance to show his people the bravery of their new king."

If the soldier had been any wiser, he would've started running at the look of pure rage and disbelief Miraz cut him. Eyes blazing with silence and warning. It was a battle of wills, one that both Edmund and Aslan's Lieutenant observed with interest.

"You," the Usurper pointed his sword at Edmund, staring down the blade at the younger monarch. "You had better hope your brother's sword proves sharper than his pen."

Edmund met Miraz's eyes, his only response coming in the form of a slow smile spreading across his features. It was only after they had left, the sound a bustle of the camp being swallowed by the Western Woods that were his domain did Emily speak.

"He gave us a clue." A smile spreading to match her king's, Emily breathed in the cool Narnian air, thanking the forgotten stars above. "He gave us a clue to where Susan is."

* * *

 **This chapter was meant to be uploaded last night.**

 **That's a great way to start an author's note, no? Anyway, it was supposed to be up last night but due to exhaustion and an exam I had today, publishing was delayed. *Sighs* What can you do?**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter- review if you'd like? It would mean a lot to me if you did. Maybe?**

 **Question: What are your thoughts on Netflix getting the rights to the entire Chronicles of Narnia series?**

 **Answer: I don't know. I'm sort of on the ambivalent side. On one hand, I absolutely adore the films. I think they're pure perfection in every single way. From the costumes to the actors, the settings, to the soundtrack. DEAR LORD THE SOUNDTRACK. But on the other hand, I'm curious to see where Netflix is going to take the series.**

 **My words of wisdom for the day.**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


	11. Chapter 11: Heartbeats and Hoofbeats

It was cold.

With a dying fire lighting the campsite, tied to a tree in the middle of the Narnian woods; in the middle of _her_ woods, Susan shivered. The breeze beckoned to her, called out in an ancient language, lost to time. It formed a melody, a soft and sweet symphony that eased away the ache in her side, the hollowness in her limbs. The bruise on her cheek throbbed, and she flexed her wrists, testing the bonds that kept her down.

Across from her, just inside the ring of flickering flames, the night watch murmured to each other, their low tones echoing evenly in the silent night. A ghost, they called her. A wraith.

And Susan had heard all the names before, had been called worse by better people. The memories danced before her eyes as she lifted her chin and cocked her head to the side. "You know, if you have questions, you can simply ask. It's not like I'm going anywhere thanks to you bloody lot."

The two soldiers paused, flinching as if they'd been burned and glanced to each other with fear in their eyes. The braver of the two, _or the more foolish_ , Susan thought, set his sword back into its sheath and studied her with something akin to awed fear. "You speak to us, witch?"

Rubbing her wrists back subtly against the roughness of the tree's bark, she plastered to her face the smile that had charmed hundreds of royal emissaries, bewitched dozens of foreign monarchs and their sons. "I don't see anyone else here." Her eyes sparkled, and she sat up straighter, looking them both dead in the eye. "Apart from the trees, of course. They do know how to hold a grudge. "

"Beruna." The second soldier, younger than the first and clean shaven, stared at Susan in horror. "But how did she- "

"Quiet." The other stood, armor glinting dully in the waning firelight and crooked his finger at the queen accusingly. "Do not use your magic on us, witch." Metal creaked as he came over and tugged her head back, baring her neck. "You have no power here."

 _The more foolish,_ Susan decided and bared her teeth in a smile as the scrap of rope binding her wrists snapped. "Then you're going to be utterly gobsmacked by this."

She twisted, hands slamming the soldier forward into the tree with an audible crack. Susan pulled his sword free. Instantly missing her bow at the unfamiliar weight in her hands, but grateful for the mandatory fencing sessions her brothers had forced her through during their rule, she pointed the tip of the blade at the remaining soldier. "I wouldn't if I were you."

He froze, halfway to his own blade. Throat bobbing, Susan gathered up her skirts and sent up a silent prayer. "You're going to throw your sword and not-" Cut off by the boy's shout, fear skittered down her spine as the sleeping members of the party were roused from sleep. "Bugger."

And she ran. Darting between the trees and woods, searching for a familiar landmark; anything to give her a sense of direction. A sense of where she's going. Stumbling through the brush and undergrowth, Susan could hear the cry go up. Could sense it in the vibrations of the earth that they had her scent and would hunt her down. So, she ran. Faster and faster.

Body aching, wrists stinging, and heart pounding as the trees seemed to move. Perhaps it was all in her head as there seemed to be fewer stones in her path than there should be. More space for her to dash between the greenery, the terrain turning from hard gravel to soft moss, soothing the jolting aches that came along with running after being captive for so long.

And when the sound of rushing water came breaking through the trees, Susan let out a sob of relief. If she could make it across the river, the fords, whatever it was, she could find her way to the How. _Just like Dorothy,_ Susan thought. _I simply must find the yellow brick road._

Down the hillside she raced, tripping and dodging rocks, aiming directly ahead. The River Narnia. Calm and quiet, unlike the time years- a lifetime- ago when the ice had melted, and the wolves had nearly drowned them.

An arrow whistled past her ear. Then another, with a third on its tail. The second pang of longing for her own weapon washed through her as she threw herself to the side, out of the missile's path.

"Did you believe you could run, lady?"

Susan stopped short, eyes straying between the sword point at her throat, the crossbows pointed and surrounding her. Breath ragged, she gave Miraz a smile she had perfected during the Golden Age yet had rarely used. A smile that promised the sweetest kind of torture, where death is a blissful release. "It was worth a try."

He dug the blade under her chin, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. A clash of wills. Steel gray against hardening brown. "Do not test my patience, your majesty," Miraz's tone was anything but respectful as he spoke, jerking his chin towards one of his men to bind her wrists once more. They had brought chains with them this time. "For when your country burns around you and your brethren lay dead at your feet-" Susan swallowed as he dug the point in deeper. "I will be the one standing triumphant."

* * *

Even the blind would've been able to see the waves of tension rolling of the two brothers. Standing together in the dimly lit table room, the two kings helped each other adjust their armor, old habits falling into place like the remaining pieces of the puzzle clicking into position. Nearly head to head with his brother, Edmund had no trouble seeing the nervousness that flickered within the sapphire blue orbs of his brother's eyes. "Are you sure you're ready for this Pete?"

There was a beat of silence as Peter considered his options, considered lying to his brother as a default mechanism for some personal peace. But then he shook his head and focused on fixing the strap of his armor. "Not really Ed." Peter tightened the leather band, swallowing as he pulled on it harder. "Not really, no."

The warm air and the leaping flames were becoming stifling as Edmund's look prompted Peter to further his words, his doubts on the upcoming duel. When his brother stayed silent, the Just King merely sighed and went about straightening the hem of the crimson fabric. "You're going to do great. You're one of the best swordsmen Narnia's ever seen, after me of course. C'mon, chin up." Edmund grinned as his brother snorted. "There we go. That's the face of a High King."

Leather groaned, breaking off the jovial lilt to Edmund's tone as Peter unsheathed Rhindon, the blade gleaming in the dancing firelight. "What do you think happens, back home," blue eyes reflected somberly back against the ancient symbols stamped into the metal. "If you die here?"

The pyres around them wavered in their heat, bowing away as a gale of cold wind howled through the network of tunnels, chilling Edmund to the bone. Covering Peter's hand with his own, he guided the ancient blade back into its sheath, meeting his brother's gaze firmly. "Save it for when we're all sitting 'round the table eating some biscuits and tea with mum, yeah?" A small smile, sly and comforting, quirked up the Just King's lips as he stepped back to regard his brother. "Besides, how hard can it be to beat some old geezer?"

 **(Line break- formatting error)**

Emily was a wraith as she watched them, stark against the pale blue Narnian sky; a ghost of the kingdom fallen and soon to be rebuilt. She could feel it in her bones. This fight, this war, was soon to end. More than that. Her eyes landed on the trees, a silent plea from her to them to wake up once more. To fight once again at their side as the nymphs had done in Narnia's Golden Age.

But the row after row after row of muted grey marching to the beat of a soundless drum drew her attention away from the living green. The uncertain fear in her gut turned to a coiling fear as she counted the rows, doing the math in her head as those lines stretched far across the grassy plain. There were too many.

They were outnumbered.

 _They wouldn't survive the night._

Dread formed an icy fist around her heart. She closed her hand around the pendant at her throat, eyes closing as the brisk wind kissed her face.

"Aslan," Emily's lips moved, the sound being whipped away on the breeze as roars and the beating of metal on metal filled the air. "Give them strength to win this fight. To beat those who stand against them and to reclaim the land that is rightfully theirs, by blood and by dream. By birth and by hope." Her eyes opened, the charcoal grey lining momentarily with a softening golden light. "And let the Clear Northern Skies give them the vision of a new day coming. Let the Radiant Southern Sun, light their way towards victory and triumph, the Great Western Woods stay their blades when mercy is needed to be given." Exhaling, and eyes falling towards the silver and crimson-clad figures as they walked from the How, eyes set on the oncoming storm. "And let the Glistening Eastern Sea bring them all home."

* * *

Peter raised his eyes in salute of the glimmering white figure standing above them all, and he could've sworn she smiled back at him. Turning back to face the halted and unmoving seas of oncoming death, the corner of Peter's mouth quirked up, glancing sideways at his brother amid the cheers and roars. His smile faded to a serious blankness as he nodded at Glenstorm, standing sentinel beside the ancient and crumbling pavilion. He met Miraz's gaze, cool and calculating across the withering stones.

"If it should appear to be going badly…" Miraz trailed off. Adjusting his gauntlets, he lowered his eyes from the wraith atop the ruin to his opponents watching eyes before raising them once more towards the general on his left, lingering for a moment on the armed crossbow he held. There's a beat of silence, of hesitance to comply with the given order. At their side, Sopespian rested a hand at the pommel of his sword.

"Understood, my lord."

The Usurper king rose to his feet. And Peter stepped forward to meet him.

* * *

Lucy rode hard. Hard and fast. Dust rose in clouds as she raced under the canopy of green, trees and foliage blurring to the background as she darted between them. The song of the wind met her ears, shrill and melodic, a tune that danced in the jagged edges of her memory. The Narnian Lullaby sang itself on the current, weaving itself through the brush and undergrowth, and Destrier followed it as if he heard it too. But then the song turned darker, a high and clear note ringing out in warning.

The ground shook, the sound of hoofbeats pounding against the dirt rose to a muted harmony, drowning out the lullaby, sending the animals and trees cowering to their posts. Lucy dared a look over her shoulder and urged Destrier faster. Through the trees, over rocks, and the occasional trickle of a stream they chased her. Faster. Faster.

Pebbles flew as Lucy pushed Destrier to his limit, the horse's ears folded back against his head as he maneuvered between the cool woods, watery sunlight trickling down to light the ancient forest path. A glimmer of gold, a flash of movement deep within the trees caught Lucy's attention, lips pulling down into a frown. The speck grew larger. Bigger and bigger until-

Destrier reared up. And Lucy tumbled to the ground with a small cry.

Golden amber eyes brightened in the sunlight as he cocked his head towards the young queen, observing and calculating. His tail swished. And time slowed. Somewhere, in the distance, a shout rang out through the trees and an arrow whistled by, breaking the spell.

Lucy flinched, breathing hard, and a shadow blocked out the sun.

* * *

 **Hey ya'll,**

 **Wow, that took… A long time to write. Even with 'Sleeping At Last' to keep me company as I wrote. I know, I know this chapter was more of a filler type than anything else, but it was incredibly important to me to get this out as its own separate chapter than make one incredibly long one.**

 **Anyway… This means that coming up next is the action. Woot woot! Who's excited? I know I am.**

 **Thank you guys so much for your patience, I'm really hoping that the next update'll be a double update- I really want it to be- but between finals and upcoming graduation stuff, only time will tell. You guys are the greatest.**

 **Ttyl**

 **Liz**


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